


Stay With Me

by linnysweetheart



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 29
Words: 113,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9439115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linnysweetheart/pseuds/linnysweetheart
Summary: Blaire Carter was living a life that was far from normal.  With a daughter struggling from Leukemia and an ex-boyfriend stalking her she had no time to spend on her personal relationships.  When she meets a rude boy named Harry Styles, she is allured by his mysterious personality but because of her abusive past she is too afraid to fall for him.  Will his tragic story change her mind and make her stay?  Or will her own tragic story tear them apart?





	1. Chapter 1 | Matters of the Heart

**DISCLAIMER**

**THE CONTENT IN THIS FANFICTION CAN BE DISTURBING TO SOME READERS.  THE FOLLOWING TOPICS ARE INCLUDED THROUGHOUT THE STORY: VIOLENCE, LANGUAGE, AND SEXUALITY.  PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.  THE CHARACTERS IN THIS FANFICTION ARE ORIGINAL AND IN NO WAY RELATE TO ANY PERSON OTHER THAN IN APPEARANCE AND NAME.  THIS WRITING IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY.**

 

 

Your lips taste like nicotine

And I know smoke has filled your lungs

But that’s okay

Because I can still find galaxies in your eyes

And I feel content

At the sight of those stars

And when your hand reaches mine

I feel flowers grow in my ribcage

And I feel butterflies flutter and bump against my stomach

And that’s okay

Because I’m okay

And we’re okay

-Unknown

 

 

 **You cannot protect** **yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.**

**-Jonathan Safran Foer**

 

The human heart is a delicate system. Knives and bullets can easily penetrate its weak exterior, causing damage and slowing killing the person from the inside out. However, the most dangerous threat to the heart isn't in the form of a knife or a bullet. It's love. Once it seeps inside, the gears and wheels seem to get jammed, causing it to skip a beat. The blood that flows through it picks up its pace, causing frustration and blame to be directed at the person that allowed it to become penetrable in the first place.

Blaire Carter is far too familiar with these symptoms. Even at the age of twenty four, she has experienced enough to scare her from ever wanting to feel love again. She's never known why the universe is against her and ability to love until she meets another broken heart. A mysterious stranger who refuses to leave her alone until she learns what he sent into her life to teach her.

"Shit," Blaire curses under her breath.

She scoops her purse off of the table and jogs out the door, not even pausing to lock in behind her. She runs down the long hallway, past the doors on both sides of her and to the staircase.

She quickly skips down the stairs, clumsily pulling her arms through her jacket sleeves and accidentally letting her purse slip from her hands. It lands with a thump a few steps down and she pauses to bend over and collect the spilled items, hastily shoving them back inside. Finally, she reaches the ground floor of her apartment building and is greeted by the cloudy morning sky on the other side of the glass doors.

"Good morning, Blaire," Charlie, an elderly man that lives on her floor, greets her as she rushes by him. She nods quickly and smiles before dashing out the doors and onto the already busy street.

As much as she loves living in the bustling excitement of New York City, it always seem to send her head spinning so early in the morning. She steps out onto the edge of the sidewalk and waves her hand, beckoning for a cab even though every one that passes her is already occupied.

"Come on," she whispers through her clenched teeth.

She digs through her disorganized purse for her phone while she continues to wave for a cab. Eventually, her hands clasp around the phone and she yanks it out of the bag. Her eyes fall onto the screen as it turns on and she glances at the time before shoving it back into her bag.

"Shit," she curses again as a cab finally comes to a stop in front of her.

"Where to?" the driver asks as she hops into the backseat and closes the door.

"47th and 3rd South Avenue," she replies quickly and the driver nods before slowing merging back into the traffic.

Blaire finds herself crossing her legs and bouncing her right one up and down anxiously. "Could you drive faster, please?" she asks and the driver glances at her in the mirror.

"Sorry, Miss. I'd like to but I can't drive much faster in the traffic," he answers, honking his horn loudly when a tiny, red car cuts into the lane in front of him.

Ten minutes later, they arrive at the front of one of the biggest buildings on the entire avenue. Blaire already has her wallet clutched in her hand and quickly thrusts a couple bills into the driver's hand after glancing at the meter.

"Keep the change," she says before getting out and slamming the door behind her. She rushes up the front steps and into the door under a sign that says in big, curvy letters "Impressions".

"Good morning, Ms. Carter," the cheery, young woman behind the desk greets her as she bursts through the front doors.

"Good morning, Rachel," Blaire pants as she hurries over to the elevator, frantically pushing the button.

She is just beginning to consider sprinting up the eighteen flights of stairs when the elevator dings and the doors open up in front of her. She steps aside to allow the people inside to scurry out before she gets in and immediately presses the button for the ninth floor. The elevator jolts to a start and a familiar sensation tickles her stomach as it begins to move upwards. She sighs and leans back against the far wall, finally able to pause and catch her breath.

When the elevator stops and the doors slide open, she begins walking down the hallway with a quick pace. She turns left at the end of the hallway and bursts through the tall, glass doors. The people inside the room are busy carrying stacks of paper and talking on phones and nothing seems out of the ordinary. She's careful as she sneaks through her co-workers and over to her desk at the back corner of the room.

Blaire sets down her bag on the floor beside her chair and sits down, blowing out a long sigh and running her fingers through her long, dark brown hair to make it look tidier. She pulls out the mirror she keeps tucked in her drawer and the sight of her reflection doesn't even faze her. She's used to seeing her tired eyes staring back at her every time she sees her reflection.

Leaning forward, she turns on her computer and logs in. She is prepared to check her schedule for the week when a co-worker with slightly long, blond hair and bright, blue eyes peeks over the wall that surrounds her cubicle.

"Flynn," Blaire gasps, placing her hand on her chest as she tries to collect herself.

"Parker wants to see you in his office, Blaire," he announces, looking at her with a grim smile on his face.

"Of course he does," she sighs, pushing her keyboard away and standing up from her chair.

She follows Flynn as he leads her through the maze of cubicles and over to the isolated office at the front of the room.

"Good luck," he says and gives her a quick thumbs up.

"Thanks," she replies, pursing her lips before turning around to the closed door and gently knocking on it.

"Come in!" calls a voice from inside and she slowly opens the door.

When the room opens up before her, she quickly spots a man sitting behind a big, mahogany desk with his feet propped up on the surface and his eyebrows raised and her heart sinks slightly in her chest.

"Blaire Carter," he smirks, leaning back further in his chair, "You're late. Again."

"Listen, Parker. I know I promised it wouldn't happen again but I have a good reason this time," she begins to explain but the smirk on his face only grows bigger.

"Ah ah," he says, shaking his head and pointing at the seat in front of his desk.

Blaire holds back a complaint, walking over to the chair and sitting down. Parker's smirk has turned into a full blown smile, showing of all of his perfectly white, straight teeth. It's the kind of smile she is used to seeing whenever he notices her walk into a room.

Even though Blaire hates him, she has to admit that he is extremely handsome. His dark hair is always styled messily, almost like he just woke up and his eyes are a chocolate brown color that would be warm and comforting if they didn't always hold a mischievous glint in them. He is charming to everyone except for Blaire. She is the only one who can see him for what he really is. A very rich man with a very rude personality. The kind of man she never wants to involve herself with.

"Blaire, Blaire, Blaire," he scolds, shaking his head and then tilting it in a curiosity. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You're not going fire me, are you?" she asks, shifting nervously in her chair.

"No, of course not. I'd miss you too much," he smirks and picks up a pen from the desk, twirling it around in his fingers and then biting down on the tip of it.

His eyes travel down her body and then back up to her face, making her glare at him in disgust. "No, I was thinking maybe you could make it up to me some other way. It doesn't have to be right now, of course, but maybe I can make a real excuse for you to be late next time."

"No way," Blaire scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. "I've already told you, Parker. I'm off limits to you and everyone else. Besides, even if I wasn't, I still wouldn't do it."

"Have it your way then," he chuckles humorlessly, letting his pen fall to the desk and roll off onto the floor. She watches it fall, avoiding his eyes and knowing that she's about to regret her decision.

"I guess I'll just have to dock your pay for the month instead," he says, watching in satisfaction as Blaire's mouth opens in shock.

"You can't do that, Parker! You know I need the money," she complains but Parker just throws his head back and chuckles.

"And you know I need you," he replies, raising his eyebrows. "Looks like both of us are going to be going home unsatisfied tonight."

Blaire just sits there in the chair, refusing to move even though she knows she's been dismissed. She's not sure of what to say or do. If she agrees to Parker's deal then she will regret it for the rest of her career and if she doesn't, she might have to make an even bigger sacrifice.

"Fine," she growls and Parker's eyes light up. "I'll take the dock in my pay."

The light in his eyes gets sucked back in and he slumps back in his chair. Blaire remains in her chair, studying him and waiting for further instructions.

"What are you doing, Carter? Get back to work!" he orders and she jumps at the harshness of his voice before she gets up and rushes to the door.

The noise of the office pours into the room when she opens the door. She slowly closes it behind her and slumps against it, letting out a long sigh. That could have gone a lot worse than it did. She can't even imagine what would happen if she got fired. Slowly, she makes her way back to her desk and sits down, ready for another long day at work.

A few hours later, she starts to pack up her things and stack her paperwork into a neat pile on her desk. All around her, everyone is also starting to clean up their cubicles and she spots Parker walking around, examining everyone's progress from the day.

He stops at the cubicle across from hers and she takes the opportunity to pick up her pace and get out before he gets the chance to talk to her alone. She quickly stamps the date and time on her work sheet, remembering to dock off her time a bit because of lateness. The amount of people on the floor is beginning to thin out as everyone rushes to get home before traffic gets too heavy and she finds herself hoping that she won't be left alone with him.

Finally, Parker looks up and sees her waiting behind her desk. He races his fingers through his hair, making it stand up and look even more messy than usual. Normally, the action would make girls swoon and practically fall his feet, but there are none of those girls here now.

"You know, you could still take me up on that offer, Carter," he suggests, leaning forward casually with both hands on her desk. She scoffs and moves further away from him since he seems to be gradually inching closer.

"Never. Going to. Happen," she hisses through her teeth and a wide smile appears on his face.

"We'll see," he replies and snatches the first paper on the stack, skimming over it and nodding slowly. "Very nice, Carter. You've got the photo shoot for May all set up then?"

"Yes," Blaire answers while she swings her bag over her shoulder. "They said they would be ready for us in the first week of May but they'd like to talk to you first."

"Good, good," he says, setting the sheet down on the desk and standing up straight again.

Blaire nods goodbye to him and turns around to leave but he stops her. "And Carter, try to be on time tomorrow."

"Yes, your highness," she calls over her shoulder and rolls her eyes when he chuckles.

When she reaches the elevator, she presses the button and taps her foot impatiently as she waits for it to arrive. A familiar ding sounds and the doors slide open, revealing a bunch of people. Blaire squeezes her way into the crowded space and the doors shut.

The ride down is silent as usual, except for the quiet song playing over the speakers. As soon as the doors open, everybody piles out, pushing and shoving around her as if she is invisible.

"Have a good day, Ms. Carter?" Rachel asks, looking up from her computer screen as Blaire goes by.

"As if that were possible on an office day," Blaire answers as she trudges towards the door, feeling slightly windswept after nearly being trampled. Rachel laughs at her response and turns back to her computer.

Blaire opens the door and the miserable day outside engulfs her. The cool, moist air clings to her skin and hair as she walks out onto the busy street. She thinks momentarily about hailing a cab but decides against it when she sees how busy the traffic is.

Entering the crowd of people scurrying in every direction, she begins to walk home. As soon as she escapes the concentration of people, she feels her head clear and picks up her pace a little bit. The sky overhead is low and it feels like the clouds are trying to push down on her as she walks.

"Hey, beautiful!" someone calls out to her and she follows the voice to find two men walking on the opposite side of the street.

They are dressed in baggy sweaters and baseball caps and they don't look very old. When they see her looking in their direction, they start whistling and she turns away, pulling up her hood over her head to block them out. It appears to have worked because the one of them calls out a faint, "Come on, baby," and then their voices disappear.

She sighs in relief, fully understanding the dangers of walking around New York alone when she looks like she does. She rounds the next corner and the sidewalk is completely empty except for one person.

It's another male and he's walking towards her, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He's wearing nothing but a white t-shirt that reveals off his muscular, tattoo-covered arms, but the cold air doesn't seem to be bothering him. There's a grey fedora on his head and his brown curls are poking out from underneath it. He's looking at the sidewalk so she can't make out his face. His tall figure keeps getting closer, making her heart beat faster in her chest but she doesn't know why. He seems harmless.

Just before their paths cross, he looks up and she glances into the most beautiful eyes she's ever had the opportunity to see. The perfect color of emerald green, bright even in the dull light of the rainy evening and full of what appears to be hurt and disappointment.

His eyes don't seem to waver from hers until the moment passes and he's gone. She has a sudden urge to turn around and see if he's still looking. She isn't surprised when she does and he is.


	2. Chapter 2 | Overprotective

**Pick battles that are big enough to matter, small enough to win**

**-Jonathan Kool**

 

The ground floor of the apartment building is just as empty and dull as when Blaire ran through it that morning. The old, white wallpaper is peeling off around the doorways and the lights are casting dark shadows on her face.

She stops to open her mail box before heading upstairs and finds three envelopes, all with the same address on them. Blaire sighs, locks her box and begins the slow trek up the stairs to her floor. The hallway is dim since a few of the lights are broken and the landlord always seems to have better things to do than fix them. Its days like this that make her wish they had enough money to afford better.

She opens door 311 to her apartment, realizing too late that she forgot to lock it that morning, but then she shakes her head thinking, that probably just made it easier for Tatum to get inside. The strange emptiness she feels when she steps into the room makes worry rush through Blaire. She drops her bag on the floor and quickly walks to each doorway, peeking her head in but finding the rooms empty.

"Tatum!" she yells and no one answers. This can't be happening, she thinks, today is not the day.

Panic sets in when there's no trace of anyone even being there at all. Blaire turns and walks back out into the hallway, turning straight to the door on her left. She knocks loudly, hoping against hope that Charlie will be home.

A few seconds later, the door swings open and Charlie looks down at her, clearly not surprised to see her standing there.

"Blaire," he smiles.

"Have you seen Tatum? I can't find her anywhere," she asks, slightly angered at his calm and happy greeting.

"Of course you can't. She's been here since she got home," he answers, his smile fading.

He must be realizing it was a mistake to not leave a note saying Tatum was with him. "Well, come on in," he says, starting to walk back into the apartment.

Blaire follows him inside, closing the door behind her. The sound of claws slipping on the kitchen tile signals the arrival of Hadley. As predicted, a second later, he comes running around the corner, dives head first into Blaire's knees and immediately begins smelling her from head to toe. She bends down to give him a quick pat but stops when she sees Tatum standing in the doorway. Relief washes over Blaire and Tatum looks at her guiltily.

"Sorry, mom. I should have told you I was coming here after school. I forgot," Tatum apologizes, wringing her hands together behind her back.

"I know you are. Just don't scare me like that again," Blaire says, walking over and pulling her into a hug which Tatum quickly returns. They pull apart and Blaire examines her, gently rubbing her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" Blaire asks, carefully tucking Tatum's hair behind her ear.

"Great. I actually felt normal today," Tatum answers, her big, brown eyes smiling along with her mouth.

Blaire can't remember the last time she saw her so happy. The last few months have been so hard on the both of them.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart. Now why don't you say goodbye to Charlie and come home for dinner?" Blaire smiles but Tatum shakes her head.

"I can't. I promised him I'd help to finish putting together this scrapbook for him," she says. Blaire is about to say no when Tatum stops her. "It won't take long. We're almost finished."

Blaire sighs and runs her fingers through her hair. "Fine," she answers. "But not too much longer, okay?"

"Okay," Tatum replies and hugs Blaire quickly before running off to the living room, her long, brown hair bouncing behind her.

"She'll be fine, Blaire. I'll send her home as soon as she's finished," Charlie reassures her, standing up from where he is sitting at the kitchen table.

"That's easy for you to say. She's not your daughter," Blaire snaps and turns towards the door, calling Hadley to follow and leaving Charlie standing there, wondering for the thousandth time what he said wrong.

Back in her apartment, Blaire angrily grabs the envelopes she had retrieved from the mailbox and throws herself onto the couch. Hadley jumps up beside her, lying down with his black and white head placed on her leg as she rips open the first bill.

_Dear Ms. Carter,_

_We are sending this to inform you that your first installment of $50,000 is due in two weeks for the procedure of chemotherapy performed on April 2, 2014 on Tatum Amorette Carter. Please enclose the payment in either a cheque or cash and mail it to the following address._

Blaire lets the letter slip from her hand and it falls slowly down, landing on the top of Hadley's head, who shakes it off onto the floor.

Ever since Tatum was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia one year ago, Blaire has been struggling with money. They had to leave their condo in downtown New York to live in this cheap apartment building and have had to give up almost all of the luxuries they had been so used to. It's a completely different way of life and no one seems to understand what they are going through, always thinking everything will be fine. Only Blaire seems to understand that they will never be fine again.

Once she wraps her head around what the first letter said, she opens the second one. It's a prescription for refills on Tatum's usual medications and the last letter is only a form for donating to the cancer foundation which she quickly disposes of.

She's always wondered why they send those forms to households with cancer already in them. After all, it's not like those families have any extra money lying around to donate to cancer research with all the therapy and surgeries they have to pay for.

Her financial life seems to be quickly spiraling downwards and she knows that it isn't coming up anytime soon, especially after Parker just docked her paycheck. How is she ever going to pay off the treatments for Tatum? What about the one's that she will need later on?

This past treatment was only the first of possibly several different chemotherapy sessions and if the cancer gets bad enough, Tatum may require surgery which there is no way Blaire will be able to afford.

Blaire continues pondering over how she is going to come up with the money as she puts some hot water on the stove to boil. She stirs some salt in and begins to hum a tune when the sound of someone knocking on the door interrupts her.

She sets down her spoon and goes to answer it. The door opens to a pretty girl with curly brown hair and a face like a porcelain doll, even including the ruby red lips. The girl doesn't wait for an invitation before she steps over the threshold, hauling two large bags of the city's most delicious Chinese food.

"Hi, Blaire!" she calls over her shoulder as she walks into the kitchen. "Hope you haven't made dinner yet!"

Blaire laughs and shakes her head at her younger sister Kennedy as she follows her over to the counter. There's something about her bright and spunky personality that barges into her life at the most random moments that always causes Blaire to laugh.

"You're lucky. I've just started," she says as Kennedy sets down the bags and starts rummaging through them, setting the Styrofoam containers filled with food along the counter.

"Good because it's been too long since I've treated you guys to a nice, classic, Manhattan-style dinner," Kennedy says, crumpling up the bags and throwing them in the trash. "Where's Tate?"

"She's next door helping Charlie with his latest project," Blaire answers, pulling out a chair at the table and sitting down. "You know, sometimes I wish that man could at least respect the fact that I would like to spend time with my daughter, too."

"Blaire," Kennedy sighs, stopping what she is doing and leaning against the counter with her hands behind her back, "I don't want to be harsh with you but you tend to be a little overprotective of her. And I think you just have to start letting her live her life without all this worrying. You're becoming a depressing cloud that keeps hanging over everyone's heads, trying to bring them down."

"I'm only protective because I have a reason to be. And I'm not depressed. I'm just being a concerned mother and there's nothing wrong with that," Blaire defends, looking at her sister in disbelief.

How can she even think that? Kennedy cares about Tatum too, so shouldn't she agree that she needs to be monitored at all times by someone that better understands her condition?

"I understand that, it's just you never give her the chance to be free. Like, if I were to take her out of the house, we couldn't go anywhere without you breathing down my neck. Just because she's sick doesn't mean you get to have her to yourself all the time," Kennedy counters, her voice beginning to rise slightly.

"She's my daughter!" Blaire shouts but is cut short when she hears the sound of a door closing.

Tatum comes walking into the room a few seconds later and when she sees Kennedy she smiles and runs into her arms.

"I missed you, Aunt Kennedy," she says as she buries her face into the fabric of her black blouse.

"I missed you too, Tate," Kennedy smiles, pulling her tighter against her body and giving Blaire a look.

Blaire ignores it and stands up from her chair. "Look what Aunt Kennedy brought for us," she announces, gesturing at the food on the counter.

"Yes! Chinese is my favorite! Thank you so much, Aunt Kennedy!" Tatum exclaims, giving her another quick hug and hurrying over to help herself to some food.

"You're welcome, sweetie," Kennedy answers.

Blaire grabs down extra plates for them and Kennedy knows this is just so she doesn't have to make eye contact with her. Sometimes it really gets on Kennedy's nerves that she can't spend time with her niece like she used to before she got sick. Blaire is just being ridiculous thinking that she always has to have an eye over Tatum and even worse she thinks that Kennedy isn't responsible enough to look after Tatum by herself.

Halfway through dinner, Blaire can't shake the feeling that Kennedy is keeping something from her. It's the way she keeps glancing at her across the table with a suspicious smile on her face that is making the suspense rise in Blaire until she can't hold it in anymore.

"Alright Kennedy! Wipe that smile off your face and just tell us!" she exclaims only making the smile grow wider on Kennedy's face.

"I'm planning a trip," she announces, barely able to contain her excitement. "And you two are coming with me."


	3. Chapter 3 | Man of Her Dreams

**Most people would rather be certain they're miserable, than risk being happy.**

**-Elizabeth Kubler-Ross**

 

"You're planning on taking us where?" Blaire exclaims but Kennedy's look of pleasure doesn't falter. Kennedy knows her sister too well and was expecting this sort of reaction, which is why she planned the whole thing before asking for permission.

"Greece, Italy, Brazil," she lists off, counting on her fingers. "And those are only some of the places we're going to visit. I've got so many more surprises that I can't reveal yet."

Blaire seems to have stopped listening and is pacing back and forth beside the counter, massaging her forehead with her fingertips. She stops and leans against the counter with her back to Kennedy and sighs loudly.

Kennedy waits patiently until she calms down enough to see the reasoning behind this trip. Tatum has already been sent to her bedroom. Blaire feels that it's good not to disappoint her yet.

"So, what do you think?" Kennedy asks, not being able to take the pressure of waiting any longer.

"What do I think?" Blaire asks, spinning around to face her. "You know how I feel about this kind of thing. She isn't healthy enough to travel that far and you know there's no we can afford it," she hisses through her teeth in fear of Tatum listening into the conversation.

"You don't have to worry about the money. I've got it covered," Kennedy explains. "Being one of the most sought after models in New York does have its perks."

"But she's not strong enough," Blaire insists, struggling to keep her voice down to a whisper while Kennedy continues to talk loudly, as if she wants Tatum to hear them fighting.

This angers Blaire more. She doesn't want Tatum to have any more negativity in her life, let alone have the only two people she cares about fighting all the time.

"She looks strong enough to me and besides, she should get the opportunity to see these amazing places just in case," Kennedy says, immediately regretting the words when Blaire's face twists into a look of shock and suppressed anger.

"So this is what this is, huh? Some kind of farewell trip for Tatum?" Blaire questions, her voice raising slightly with every word. "Well, she doesn't need it because she's not going anywhere! Especially not with you!"

"Blaire-" Kennedy begins but she's cut off.

"I think you should go," Blaire breathes out, pinching the bridge of her nose and facing the floor.

"That's not how I meant for this to be at all. If you would just listen to me-"

"Just go," Blaire answers coldly, still not making eye contact with her.

The shuffling sound of feet retreating and the door opening and closing with a quiet click makes Blaire slump down against the counter. She places her head in her hands and shakes it, muttering angry words to herself.

Why do nights with Kennedy always seem to end like this? She should understand that it's too much of a risk to take Tatum away from here at all. Blaire even rejected her mother and father's invitation to come visit them in Staten Island because she didn't want Tatum to be that far away from her doctor. The guilt of ripping away the chance for Tatum to see her grandparents dried her up inside but the protectiveness she feels for her daughter always overrides any other emotion.

"Mommy?" Tatum's voice asks, gingerly.

Blaire looks up and sees her standing in the doorway, dressed in her plaid pyjamas with her long hair braided down her back. "What is it?" Blaire asks.

"Is everything okay?" Tatum questions and takes a small step into the room.

"Yes. Everything's fine. I'm just thinking about some things," Blaire lies. She doesn't want to tell her about her and Kennedy's fight.

"Like Aunt Kennedy's trip?" Tatum asks, now standing with her body fully in the room.

"Yes."

"I won't be seeing Aunt Kennedy for a while, will I?" Tatum asks, looking at Blaire grimly.

Blaire looks at her daughter and sees the hurt in her face. She regrets keeping Kennedy from Tatum so much but she knows that it's for the best. Kennedy is just too adventurous sometimes and tends to get herself into troublesome situations.

"No," she answers, trying to keep eye contact with Tatum but she can't handle the look into her hurt eyes.

"Okay," she sighs but the look of disappoint is still there. "I'll see you in the morning."

"I love you!" Blaire calls and Tatum stops and comes back to give her a quick hug.

"I love you, too," she whispers, burying her head into Blaire's neck like she does whenever she needs to feel safe. Blaire sighs and hugs her tighter. It's moments like these that scare her the most.

~

Blaire jolts awake in her bed, clutching the blankets and staring down at the slight sheen of sweat that's coating her arms and glistening in the moonlight streaming through her open window. It was one of those dreams where it felt so realistic that she swore it wasn't even a dream. And maybe she should have just kept sleeping because is reality even any better?

Blaire can't resist getting out of her bed and sneaking down to Tatum's room to make sure she's still sleeping there. She has to be there, Blaire reassures herself as she silently runs across the hall. She can't be gone, she can't be.

Quietly and carefully, she pulls the door open, hesitating before opening her eyes which she had squeezed shut in the fear that she would find what she fears the most. A sigh of relief escapes through her lips and her whole body relaxes when she sees the figure of Tatum sprawled out in the middle of her bed, breathing slowly and evenly. She has to resist the urge to throw herself onto the bed and hold Tatum in her arms by clutching the doorway and pushing herself backwards into the hall again.

 _"Don't worry so much."_ Kennedy's words echo in her head as she crawls back into her bed. The nagging feeling that those words are true makes her gut wrench with guilt again. Is she really a bad mother for keeping Tatum from experiencing new and risky things?

No, of course not, Blaire thinks as she adjusts her position in the bed, putting her hands behind her head on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. Her mind slowly begins to relax and the room begins to get a hazy look to it. She closes her eyes and sleep quickly overtakes her once more.

"Blaire!" insists a voice far off in the distance.

She is walking down a lonely street on the far side of the city. It's early in the afternoon and the sun is just disappearing behind a big, dark cloud. She can't shake the weird feeling that she's being watched.

The wind blows her hair, making it wrap around the front of her face and block her vision. She quickly tries to brush it away, her heart racing more in the moment of blindness than when she could see. The hair doesn't seem to want to move though when it tangles around her fingers, making her efforts seem more and more useless.

Suddenly, she runs into something solid and jumps backwards, a gasp escaping her lips. She feels it make contact with her again, running what appears to be fingers through her hair and easily revealing her face.

It's the man that she saw the other day, still clothed in a white t-shirt that clings to his chest and shows how muscular he is underneath. She has a sudden urge to reach out and touch him. Her skin seems to yearn for his in a way it's never yearned for anyone's before. She avoids looking into his eyes, knowing she'll be instantly trapped in their mesmerizing gaze.

"Blaire!" he yells all of a sudden making her jump and fall back into reality.

Flynn's concerned face is only inches from hers as she slowly raises her head from the desk, squinting her eyes at the blinding brightness of the fluorescent lighting and muttering out a curse.

"Wake up!" Flynn insists, prodding her with his finger.

"I'm awake!" Blaire snaps and looks around her. She's at her office with a bunch of papers scattered on the top of her desk. How did she get here?

"Good, because if Parker catches you sleeping in here you're going to get more than a payment dock," he says, slightly relieved.

"I wasn't- shit- Flynn, I'm sorry. I'm just so tired," Blaire stutters, wiping her hands down her face and trying to become wider awake. "I must have exaggerated how fast I fell asleep last night."

"Well, I thought I'd tell you that Parker is just getting back from that meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Scott and he'll be expecting you to be organized for tomorrow when he gets here," Flynn explains and as if on cue, Parker comes strolling through the door.

"Carter!" he shouts when he spots her and comes over to her desk. "I talked to the Scotts and they okayed the shoot so I hope you're prepared to head out tomorrow."

"That's great, I'll be ready," she answers, happy for a chance to finally be able to escape the stuffiness of the office.

"There's just one condition," he says, making her excitement come plummeting back down to earth.

"What?" she asks, silently hoping that Parker isn't planning on coming along with her.

He smiles, obviously pleased with her worried expression. "You have to bring a partner along with you, but don't fret because I've already chosen one for you."

The rest of the day leaves Blaire feeling confused and angry with Parker. Why is he making her take someone with her? She can do this shoot on her own and she definitely doesn't need someone to tag along and make things harder for her. Especially not someone who's not as experienced as she is. That's all Parker would tell her. He wouldn't even let her know what the person's name is.

He had told her, "You'll know who it is when you see him. Anyways, he doesn't know you either. Aren't surprises fun?"

She wants to kill him. He knows exactly how and when to push her buttons. Sometimes she just wants to get out of this place for good and if it wasn't for Tatum, she would have left a long time ago.

Finally the clock hits five, signalling another end of another day and Blaire quickly packs away her things. As she's walking out of the office, she catches sight of Parker waving with a malicious expression on his face. Trying her best to ignore him, she leaves the room with anger brewing inside of her.

She takes a cab to the grocery store a few blocks away and immediately regrets it when she spots Kennedy running down the street towards her. She doesn't even give her a chance to say something before she turns and starts walking briskly in the other direction.

"Blaire!" she calls after her but Blaire continues walking.

"Blaire!" Kennedy yells again, obviously not planning on giving up.

"What?" Blaire snaps after she stops and gives Kennedy the opportunity to catch up.

"You can stop being mad at me because I cancelled the trip," she explains, looking grim for a brief moment but then giving Blaire her biggest please-forgive-me smile.

"That's only part of the reason I'm mad at you," Blaire reminds her and Kennedy's smile falters.

"I know, I know but I'm your little sister. When I make a mistake you're supposed to give me a chance to fix it," she says and Blaire sighs.

"Fine. You're forgiven," Blaire says, throwing her head back in surrender and opening her arms to pull Kennedy into a hug.

"Yes! Thank you! You know how much I hate it when we fight," Kennedy exclaims, hugging Blaire so tightly that she can't breathe for a moment. "Let me walk you home?"

"Alright, just let me do my shopping first," Blaire giggles. Kennedy's enthusiasm can be quite funny sometimes.

After they pick up some food and other essentials, they leave the store and start the short walk back to Blaire's apartment. "So, do you think I'll be able to come in and say hi to Tatum? Or will that be too much for you?" Kennedy asks as they walk along, carrying a few grocery bags.

Blaire had been expecting this and she isn't so sure she has gotten over what Kennedy said enough yet to let her near her daughter again so soon. ' _But what's the harm in a quick hello?'_ asks a voice in the back of her mind.

"No, it won't be too much. Just make it quick though," Blaire explains but Kennedy gets so excited that she leaves Blaire behind as she rushes up to the apartment door before Blaire can change her mind.

Just before Blaire follows her up the steps, she stops. Something doesn't feel right in her stomach and she has the urge to turn around and check behind her. When she does, she sees exactly what she was so afraid of seeing.

He's walking down the sidewalk towards where she was just standing, obviously having been walking behind her and Kennedy this whole time. He's dressed in a green, tight-fitting t-shirt and a pair of sunglasses that cover up his eyes, but she knows that he's still staring at her.

A chill rushes down her spine as she reaches for the doorknob, still not able to look away from him. He notices this and it seems to please him because a smirk forms on his lips that makes him look almost devilish. How can he look so dangerous and beautiful at the same time?

Her breath catches in her throat and she knows that she has to go inside because he just caused a single butterfly to bump against her stomach.


	4. Chapter 4 | Predictable

**When one door closes another door opens; but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door, that we do not see the ones which open for us.**

**-Alexander Graham Bell**

 

The next morning comes faster than expected because of all of the worrying Blaire has been doing. She doesn't want to go to a photoshoot with a man she has never met and doesn't know anything about. What if they don't get along? What if he ends up being so inexperienced that she has to help him the whole time and they don't get the job finished? There's so many ways this day can go wrong that Blaire can't think of any ways that it can go right.

She walks out into the early morning sun that's hugging the tall buildings all around her, glad that at least the weather will be perfect and they won't have to reschedule. There's a black jeep waiting for her at the edge of the sidewalk and the driver waves at her from the front seat. She waves back and slides into the back seat, quietly digging through the bags and cases behind her to make sure they have everything while the driver pulls away from the curb.

Traffic is light so it doesn't take long to reach the pier where she will get onto a boat that will take her to the shoot location. The driver helps her to unload the equipment and then leaves her to wait for her partner to show up.

Of course he would show up late for the biggest project he'll probably ever get the chance to do. Maybe he's decided not to come after all, she thinks. A smile breaks out on her face at the idea.

She takes a seat on the edge of one of the larger cases and puts her head in her hands, sighing out of boredom. The water below her is rippling in tiny waves and the boat is making lapping noises against the dock. It's a small yacht that Parker owns and insisted they use so that the photos will look more professional. Blaire knows it's only because he wants to impress Mr. and Mrs. Scott with the amount of money he has put into the job. These pictures they're going to be taking today have the opportunity to be on the cover of _The Times_ magazine and Blaire knows that if they don't get on it there's a huge chance she'll end up getting fired.

Not long after she sits down, she gets bored of sitting and decides to start loading the equipment onto the boat. She's almost done loading everything and in the middle of hauling a rather heavy case that contains the camera stands when a voice startles her.

"Not stealing those, are you?"

She puts the case down and straightens up, rubbing her strained back and turning to see who the voice belongs to. Her mouth drops open when she recognizes his face.

He's strolling along the edge of the pier, his long arms swinging at his sides and a joking smile on his face. He looks different today. His brown curls are pulled back in the front and tucked under a dark blue beanie, almost making him appear child-like. But Blaire knows there is nothing child-like about this man.

"What are you doing here?" Blaire demands in a hostile voice, crossing her arms over her chest as he walks up the steps leading onto the boat.

He reaches down, picking up the case of camera stands off the ground with no sign of effort and looking at her in confusion.

"I'm your partner," he answers and begins carrying the case over to the other equipment. Blaire swears she seen him wink at her as he walks past.

"My partner?" she exclaims, "You can't be. You don't even work at Impressions."

"Yes I do. We work on separate floors," he explains, beginning to unpack the cameras.

When she doesn't say anything he adds, "What a shame, huh?"

Blaire gives him a look and bends down to help him unpack. Slowly, they set up everything, carefully positioning the camera stands all along the boat deck and adjusting the lighting on all the cameras.

When they're finished, Blaire waits as he heads downstairs to tell the small crew that they're ready to go. Blaire feels her legs wobble as the boat slowly starts to move forward and she reaches out to grab onto the railing.

"Please tell me you're not going to get seasick," he says, walking back out onto the deck. He doesn't seem to have any problem keeping both his feet planted sturdily on the deck. Blaire lets go of the railing and glares at him.

"I won't," she answers, taking a step and almost falling over as she tries to get her legs to adjust.

He laughs at her. It's a deep, raspy laugh that makes the anger she's put up against him lessen a little but not disappear completely.

"Don't laugh. It's my first time on a boat."

"I can see that," he says, chuckling slightly and shaking his head.

"How come you're not falling all over the place?" she asks, gesturing at him.

"Because this isn't my first time on a boat," he answers, laughing again when she stumbles and grasps onto the railing to steady herself. Maybe Parker won't be the only asshole at work she has to deal with.

Eventually, Blaire is able to stand and walk without stumbling so she heads over to a camera, standing behind it and adjusting the features. They're almost at their location and she wants everything to be ready for when they arrive.

She glances over at him to see if he's getting prepared but he's just watching the water and casually sneaking peeks at her.

"Hey asshole, get to work," Blaire says, making him turn, slightly surprised.

"Asshole?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, I don't know you're name so I had to make one for you," she answers, shrugging.

"Has no one ever told you not to judge a book by its cover?" he questions making her shrug again. "And it's Harry Styles."

"Blaire Carter," she says and he smiles.

"You have a beautiful name," he states, his green eyes meeting hers.

She quickly avoids his glance not wanting to slip under his spell again. "Thanks," she mumbles and turns back to her camera.

The boat starts slowing down, signalling that they've arrived and Blaire positions herself behind her camera, Harry behind his. She quickly starts snapping pictures of the buildings along the waterside and the water where the sunlight hits it, painting a long white line on the surface.

Harry takes pictures of the other side of the boat, taking a little longer to adjust the settings on his camera. All of a sudden, he moves to the other side of the stand and faces the camera towards Blaire. She hears the snap of the picture being taken and lets go of her camera to tell him off.

"I saw that," she says after he finishes examining the picture of her.

He looks up over the lens and tries to hide his naughty smirk. "What?" he asks, shrugging innocently. "I was told to take pictures of something beautiful."

She feels an odd sensations lift in her stomach but forces it to go away, not letting herself react to his shameless attempt at flirting with her. "Look, that's really nice of you, but I'm not looking to be with anyone right now. Let alone someone who stalks me."

"I do no such thing," he denies, looking at her in disbelief.

"I saw you yesterday! Following me home from work!" Blaire exclaims. "So don't even try to deny it."

"I wasn't following you," he lies. "I was just out for a stroll and you happened to be in front of me."

"Yeah. Okay." Blaire says sarcastically, rolling her eyes and turning back to her work once more. "And delete the picture."

"Alright," he sighs and turns back to his work as well.

A half an hour later, they are finished the photoshoot and relaxing on the deck in collapsible chairs. The sun is warm on Blaire's skin and she feels her eyes getting heavy. She doesn't want to drift off with Harry there so she sits up more in her chair, deciding to watch the water stream by as they head back to shore.

"So, enlighten me. Why aren't you looking for a relationship right now?" Harry asks, turning his head in his chair to face her.

"That's none of your business!" Blaire exclaims, shooting up in her chair and staring at him in disbelief.

"Sorry. I'd just like to know why you rejected me when I never even asked you on date," Harry explains, causing Blaire to feel incredibly stupid.

Did she really do that? How could she just assume that was his intention? Now because of it, she owes him an explanation.

"It's just I've had some trouble with my past relationships and I'm not ready to put myself out there yet," she says all in one breath, hoping that Harry won't think she's being ridiculous.

"Go on," he says, moving his hand in a circular motion.

She takes a deep breath and continues, "His name was Jace and we were high school sweethearts. He left me nine years ago and I've never looked at a man the same way since."

Harry watches her as she runs her fingers through her hair, twirling a strand around her fingertip and letting it unwind again.

"Let me guess," Harry says, tapping his finger against his chin in thought. "You were in love with him. He got you pregnant and then left you with the kid."

Her mouth opens slightly in shock. Is she that easy to read?

"He left as soon as he found out I was pregnant," she confirms, regretting it as soon as a satisfied smirk overtakes his lips.

"So predictable."

She watches him stand up and pick up his camera again, surveying the water. "So, what's your story?" Blaire asks and his green eyes flicker to her before he turns back to his work.

"Oh, you know, I'm a struggling photographer with the dream of becoming a world famous, male model. I still live with my mother and to top it all off, my childhood dog just died," he says before hanging his head low and turning his attention to his shoes. Blaire feels at a loss for words and she stands up from her chair, about to reach out a comforting hand to him when he starts laughing.

"I'm kidding!" he exclaims, laughing even harder at the look on her face. She rolls her eyes at his childish act and slumps against the railing, waiting for him to stop laughing.

"Ha-ha, very funny. Now tell me the truth this time," she says, as his laughter dies and he stares at her, quite amused.

"Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart, but that's another story for another time," he replies, giving her a crooked smile.

"That's not how it works! I told you about me, now you have to tell me about you," Blaire insists, pushing herself off of the railing and walking towards him.

"There's nothing to tell," he admits.

"There has to be something," Blaire insists.

Harry looks at her, examining her face, almost like he's trying to decide whether he can trust her or not.

"There's nothing," he repeats, tucking his hands into the pockets off his jeans and avoiding her eyes. This is his way of silently confirming that he doesn't trust her but that's fine because she doesn't trust him either.  


	5. Chapter 5 | Stalked

**The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.**

**-Helen Adams Keller**

 

The next couple days that follow the shoot are difficult for Blaire. She constantly feels torn between liking and hating Harry. Obviously, she is feeling hatred towards him, but there was this spark of charm in his eyes that always causes her to second guess herself.

Maybe if he would've kept his mouth shut things would have went better between them and they wouldn't have parted in such a hostile way. Blaire has been running the conversation through her head for hours, trying to decipher some hidden meaning behind their words.

"You know, you really shouldn't act so uptight all the time," Harry had said as they were packing the equipment messily back into the van.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Blaire had snapped, tossing a bag into the trunk with a little too much force, hearing it land with a thump and knock over two cases in the process.

"It means, I know there's a side of you that you're hiding behind all this seriousness," he'd explained.

Blaire had huffed, tossing another item into the trunk. When Harry started chuckling to himself, Blaire had spun around in his face and yelled, "You act like you know me inside and out but you don't! You don't know me at all! So stop acting so smug!"

"You have no idea, Blaire," he'd said calmly, loading the last bag into the van. "I know exactly what kind of person you are."

What did he mean he knows exactly what kind of person she is? He's only spent a few hours with her and that is not enough time to get to know someone.

And who is he to think he knows her better than she does? He's not the one who has to live like this. His life doesn't even begin to compare to hers.

Meanwhile, she's sitting in the back of Flynn's car with Tatum, whose long hair is blowing behind her from the wind coming through the open window. Tall trees are beginning to surround the road, blurring past them as they get further from the city.

Blaire sighs, breathing in the clean air. This is the perfect place to take a break. Thousands of untouched miles of forest and lakes are perfect for clearing her mind of all the difficulties of her life.

"Hey, Flynn?" Tatum calls over the wind and radio.

"Yes?" Flynn calls back, reaching over and turning the volume dial down.

"How did you learn to drive?" Tatum asks, examining him with her big, brown eyes.

"My dad taught me. We used to live in the countryside where there were no big highways or buildings, so one day he decided to take me out and teach me. I remember him always saying 'Don't worry about getting there, just go. The journey is worth the destination.' And I did and sure, I made a few mistakes, got in a few minor accidents, but the most important thing is I never gave up."

"What happened to your dad?" Tatum asks and Flynn gives her a weak smile, brushing his bangs out of his eyes.

"He passed away a few years back. That's why I moved up to the city. I just needed a fresh start," he answers.

"Oh," Tatum whispers, her face contorting with thought for a second but she decides against whatever she was going to say. "Do you miss him?"

"Yeah," Flynn says quietly, making eye contact with her for a few seconds in the mirror before looking back at the road. "I really do."

Tatum seems finished with the conversation because she starts twisting her hair around her finger, deep in thought. "Will I ever get to drive?" she asks Blaire expectantly.

The question is so simple, yet Blaire doesn't know how to answer it. If she says yes, she could be lying to Tatum and if she says no, then she'll disappoint her.

"Of course," she answers, deciding that she'd rather see her daughter happy. "Once you're old enough."

Tatum smiles and looks out the window at the passing nature, "Good."

A few miles up the road, the trees thin out and a small dirt parking lot comes into view. Flynn turns off the road and parks in the lonely area, turning the ignition off and spinning around to face them.

"Alright. Everybody out," he announces, kicking his door open and stepping out of the car.

Blaire and Tatum follow after him, Blaire slinging a small backpack over her shoulder and Tatum carrying a camera around her neck.

"Can you please come with us?" Tatum pleads, jumping up and down in front of him.

"Sorry, Tate but my mystery novel and I have a date just over there," he replies, pointing over at the chair he's just finished setting up in the shade of a tree.

"Next time then?" Tatum asks, perking up slightly.

Flynn seems to think about it for a second, weighing out the pros and cons of trekking through the forest in the middle of the afternoon. "Next time," he promises, rubbing her head and messing up her hair.

"Hey!" she giggles, jumping back and swatting his hand away.

Blaire laughs at their small exchange as she rummages through their bag, double-checking to make sure they don't leave anything important behind.

"Okay, we've got everything. Let's go," Blaire says and Tatum swats at Flynn one more time before following her mom onto the trail.

The tall trees and bushes engulf them as they walk out of Flynn's sight. He moves over to his chair, picking up his book and propping his feet up on the arm rest. He sighs contently as he opens the book and begins where he left off.

Blaire and Tatum slink quietly through the trees, headed for their favorite lookout. The sun is shining and the sky is a perfect, cloudless blue. The sound of a nearby stream and birds singing fills the air, creating a calming effect.

A young deer hidden in the trees stands completely still, watching them with curious eyes, ready to jump at the sign of danger. Once it decides the danger has passed, it steps forward, crunching leaves under its hooves.

"What was that?" Tatum asks, jumping and spinning around in fright.

Blaire searches for the source of the noise and sees the deer slinking away through the trees, occasionally snapping a stick or two. "Just a deer," she sighs, relieved it isn't something dangerous.

They continue to walk along the trail which is more overgrown then the last time they were there. Roots and small plants wind in and out in tiny mazes beneath their feet, making it more difficult not to trip. The plants alongside the path are also starting to grow out further and Blaire finds herself having to push several out of the way.

Blaire stops to bend down and break a thick branch that is sticking out over the path and Tatum takes to the side of the path, climbing onto a fallen log. She walks along it, her arms spread out to balance herself, slowly placing one foot in front of the other.

"Tatum, please be careful," Blaire warns, looking up briefly at her daughter and blowing a long strand of hair from her face.

"I am," Tatum answers, still concentrating on her feet.

At the end of the log she jumps off, landing oddly and stumbling into the brush. She gasps as she hits the ground and Blaire quickly stands up and runs over to her.

"Are you alright?" she exclaims, picking her up off the ground.

Tatum is too distracted to answer though. Her focus is on the tiny bird that is lying awkwardly in the leaves in front of her.

"Is it hurt?" she asks and Blaire looks at her confused.

"No, you're fine," Blaire answers. She stands up and brushes the dirt from her pants. Tatum looks up at her and shakes her head.

"No, the bird. Is it hurt?" she asks again, pointing at the bird and making it flinch in fear.

Blaire finally spots it lying there, it's brown and black color allowing it to camouflage in the undergrowth. Tatum carefully takes a few steps forward, reaching out with her hand.

"Don't touch it, sweetheart, it could be sick," Blaire says, grabbing Tatum and pulling her back to her side.

"No, look at its wing. It's bent funny," Tatum says, escaping Blaire's grasp and reaching out again.

The bird flinches away from her outstretched hand but doesn't move or try to fly away. Tatum slowly inches forward until the bird lets out a tweet of protest, making her gasp and pull her hand away.

"Let's just leave it, Tate. It will be fine," Blaire whispers.

"If we leave it it's going to die," Tatum answers, reaching out her hand again.

This time when the bird protests Tatum doesn't get scared. Instead she gently wraps her hands around its body, avoiding the injured wing and scoops it up. "See, it's not even upset anymore."

Blaire looks at it warily. What are they going to do with an injured bird? There's no way they can keep it in their apartment, it will drive the neighbours crazy and she knows it won't like being cooped up either.

"Can we keep it?" Tatum asks, giving Blaire a big smile and blinking her eyes innocently.

There's no going back now. If Blaire says no, Tatum will be devastated and Blaire doesn't want the guilt resting on her shoulders.

"Only until it's healed," Blaire sighs, ruffling Tatum's hair and watching her smile grow and hearing a happy giggle escape her lips.

Back at the car, Flynn has dozed off in the warm sun. His book is hanging from his chair and his sunglasses are placed lopsided on his face. He's still snoring loudly when Blaire and Tatum emerge from the trees, Tatum clutching the bird gently against her chest.

"Flynn!" she exclaims, running over to him and causing him to jolt awake, holding his arms out as if he was going to need to fight someone and knocking his book to the ground. He adjusts his sunglasses and relaxes back into his chair.

"Flynn! Look what I've got!"

Tatum holds the bird out to Flynn and he takes off his sunglasses to get a better look. "Wow. Where did you find that?" he asks.

"It was hiding in the bushes. Look at its wing," she says, carefully turning it to reveal its broken wing.

"Poor little guy," Flynn sighs, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. "Why don't we see if I have something to put him in?"

"Okay!" Tatum exclaims and follows him over to his car. Blaire laughs and shakes her head as she watches them dig through his trunk.

"Aha!" Flynn exclaims, standing up straight with an old gym bag in his hands. "I think this will work nicely."

He unzips the bag, removing a towel, two pairs of gym shorts, some tank tops, and an empty water bottle. He places the bag on the backseat in between Tatum and Blaire and carefully adjusts a towel so it makes a small nest. Then Tatum places the bird in the bag, smiling satisfactorily when it doesn't even attempt to escape.

~

"So, how have you been?" Kennedy asks while Blaire busily scrubs the small pile of dishes that have been accumulating on the countertop.

"I think you already know the answer to that question," Blaire sighs, grabbing another plate and dunking it into the water.

"Have you got any more news?" Kennedy asks, sliding onto one of the chairs with a cup of tea grasped between her hands.

"No. But I did receive another bill in the mail the other day notifying me about the due date of the first payments," Blaire says. "I really hope that she won't need a second round of chemo because there's no way I'll be able to afford it."

"You're not alone in this, you know. I could give you money-"

"You know I can't accept your money. She's not your responsibility, she's mine," Blaire cuts her off.

Kennedy loves to give away her money to people, thinking she is helping, but really she is just making them feel more useless. Blaire doesn't need to feel anymore more useless and she definitely doesn't need anyone's help.

Kennedy doesn't seem to know how to respond without making Blaire angry so the room fills with a thick silence. Blaire continues to wash the dishes, the clattering of plates the only sound filling the room. Kennedy sips on her tea and her face lights up when she remembers something.

"Hey! You never told me how that photoshoot went. You know the one with the mystery guy," she exclaims, batting her large eyes at Blaire.

"Oh, you mean the asshole that Parker set me up with?" Blaire asks, scrubbing the plate harder. "I hope I never have the joy of seeing him again."

"Blaire! What happened? Was he cute? Did he hit on you? Tell me everything!" she blurts out, sitting anxiously on the edge of her chair.

Blaire sighs and turns around to face her sister. She leans with her back against the counter and begins to retell the afternoon she spent with Harry in a boat on the Atlantic Ocean.

When she finishes, Kennedy is looking at her with an open mouth which means she is just bursting to express her opinion. She sets down the cup of tea and walks wordlessly over to Blaire. She places both her hands on Blaire's shoulders and looks her directly in the eyes.

"Listen to me, Blaire. I know this is hard for you after the whole Jace thing but you have to go after him. This is a huge opportunity for you! And even better, he's interested in you!"

"No way! Didn't you just hear anything I said! He's creepy and annoying and there's no way he's coming anywhere near me again!" Blaire exclaims, causing Kennedy to laugh and shake her head.

"What's so funny?" Blaire asks, watching Kennedy walk over to the window that overlooks the street across from the apartment building.

"Blaire! He's hot!" Kennedy exclaims, still looking out the window.

Blaire rushes over to the window and shoves Kennedy out the way to get a better look. Sure enough, there he is. Blaire thought that maybe Kennedy was just joking around but this isn't anything to laugh about. Why is he standing outside her apartment? Didn't he say he wasn't stalking her?

She presses her hands against the glass and continues to peer through it. Harry's leaning against the building next door, twirling his sunglasses in his fingers and staring at the door as if he is waiting for her to come out and confront him. But Blaire is smarter than that. She isn't going to give him what he wants.


	6. Chapter 6 | Blind Date

**Everything you want is just outside of your comfort zone.**

**-Robert Allen**

 

"Just one date," Kennedy insists, following Blaire from the kitchen to the couch.

Blaire curls up on the couch with a bowl of freshly, popped popcorn sitting on top of her pyjamas and flicks on the television.

"I've already told you no," Blaire says, digging into the bowl and stuffing a handful of it in her mouth.

"But he's a really nice guy _and_ he's cute," Kennedy argues. "You'd really like him."

"By the sounds of it you like him," Blaire retorts, her mouth full of popcorn.

Kennedy plops down onto the couch and helps herself to some popcorn. "Nah, he's not my type."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. You like guys that treat you like shit," Blaire laughs blandly.

"No. I like guys that are interesting and know how to show a girl a good time," she says. "Something you've only experienced once."

"And from my experience I never want to have it happen again," Blaire says, setting down the bowl on the couch and pulling her knees up to her chin.

"That's why you should go on a date with Mike!" Kennedy exclaims, "He's polite and sweet and nothing like Harry or Jace."

"No," Blaire answers.

"Please, you won't regret it," Kennedy pleads.

"No," Blaire repeats.

"Come on, Blaire! Just give him a chance! What are you so afraid of?" Kennedy exclaims, getting off the couch so fast that she nearly spills the popcorn.

"I'm afraid of getting hurt again!" Blaire snaps, her eyes brimming with anger but she bites it back. "I'm afraid of putting myself out there."

"Trust me, Blaire. Mike isn't like most guys. He's harmless," Kennedy explains, sitting back down on the couch. "Just give him a chance."

Blaire sighs angrily and buries her face in her arms, staring at the darkness and letting her brain race. Kennedy knows how much Blaire despises dating these days, especially dates with strangers. And how is she supposed to trust Kennedy when she always picks the worst guys for herself?

But at the same time, maybe Kennedy is right, maybe Blaire does need someone to take her mind off of everything. She can't make up her mind. It's either be sad now or be sad later.

"So?" Kennedy presses, making Blaire groan, knowing that she can't stall this any longer.

"I'll do it," Blaire sighs.

"What?" Kennedy exclaims.

"I said I'll do it," Blaire repeats.

"Yes! Blaire you have no idea how great this is! I'll call him right away! Does tomorrow night sound good to you?" Kennedy exclaims, jumping up from the couch and pulling her phone out of her back pocket.

"Tomorrow?" Blaire asks.

"You can't keep him waiting or you'll miss your chance," Kennedy explains, dialing his number. She paces around excitedly as the phone rings and Blaire sits patiently awaiting her doom.

"Hello?" she answers after a moment, smiling at Blaire and making her groan. "Yes this is Kennedy... she said yes... I know right... yes, dinner tomorrow night sounds great...bye." She hangs up the phone and throws herself onto the couch beside Blaire.

"And that's how it's done," she sighs, sweeping her hair back and smirking at Blaire.

The next day seems to fly past and before she knows it, Blaire is facing the door, anxiously waiting for her date to arrive. At seven o'clock sharp, there is a knock on the door and Blaire's heart jerks in her chest. It seems that she's been dreading this moment for the past twenty four hours, hoping that he would just call it off or stand her up, but instead he ends up being the most punctual guy ever.

Blaire swings the door open before she can chicken out, revealing a tall, handsome man. Mike has light brown hair that's cut short and a crooked smile with one dimple. He's dressed in a white t-shirt, tight jeans, and thick-framed glasses.

"Hi," he says, smiling down at her.

"Hi," she giggles nervously.

"Are you ready to go?" Mike asks, breaking the silence that is just beginning to get awkward.

"Yeah," Blaire smiles, looking at him in surprise when he holds out his arm for her to take and she does, although it's reluctantly.

They make their way down the dimly lit hallway, down the creaky old stairs and through the abandoned lobby to where his car is waiting at the curb. A few small conversations are exchanged about their jobs and families along the way.

Blaire learns that Mike is a journalist and shares an apartment with his twin brother Daniel who constantly pesters him about dating. At least they have one thing in common; they both have siblings who love to meddle with their personal affairs.

"So, Kennedy tells me you have a daughter," Mike says, opening the car door and gesturing for Blaire to get in.

"Yes, her name's Tatum," Blaire responds as he closes the door and runs around to the driver's side.

"That's an interesting name. How old is she?" he asks with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the gear shift.

"She's eight," Blaire answers. She doesn't know if Kennedy has told Mike about Tatum's condition but if she did, he is carefully tiptoeing around the topic.

"Wow. You're so young though," he says, pulling away from the curb.

"Let's just say I made some bad decisions in high school," Blaire laughs lightly, staring blankly out the window at the buildings passing by.

During the day, New York is a busy and rude place to be in, but at night it is teeming with excitement. Many casinos and bars light up the avenues with flashing signs and loud music. Old theatre buildings pop up in between brand new stores just beginning to close down for the night. The sidewalks are almost deserted but the roads are busier than in the day, filled with people rushing to get out and loosen up after a long, stressful day at work.

Mike drives a few more blocks before they pull up outside of a restaurant. It is easy to immediately distinguish it from all the other buildings on the street. Instead of a modern, simple look, it has an old fashioned build to it. There is a patio leading out to the sidewalk dotted with small, circular tables with umbrellas stuck in the middle. There is quiet music playing over the speakers and the railings surrounding the patio are strung with pots full of lilies and roses. The whole place has a very romantic pulse radiating off of it.

The sign that is placed near the roof says _A Night in Paris_ and is framed in fairy lights that hang down low beneath the words. Blaire continues to examine the restaurant as Mike locks the car and decides she's never been to a place this fancy before. Her thoughts are interrupted by Mike's return to her side.

"Let's go ahead inside. I made us reservations," he announces and they slowly walk along the path to the entrance.

A doorman allows them inside, smiling politely and welcoming them to A Night in Paris. The inside is even more beautiful than the outside. A large, golden chandelier is hanging from the ceiling, providing enough lighting to set the mood. The tables are laid with single candles swimming in a rose colored liquid and draped in expensive looking, black, silk tablecloths. In the tables around them, couples are seated, wearing in fancy suits and dresses and sipping wine from tall glasses. It makes Blaire feel incredibly self-conscious in her small, light pink dress and cheap jewelry.

A waiter comes up to them and asks if they have a reservation.

"Yes. For Mike Walters, party of two," Mike answers, holding up his two fingers and gently placing a hand on Blaire's waist, making her shift uncomfortably.

"Follow me," the waiter orders, walking away from them and over towards the two French doors leading outside.

He opens the door and the gestures for Mike and Blaire to sit down at the nearest table. Mike pulls out a chair for Blaire and she sits down. "Thanks," she says as he slides the chair into the table.

"Anything to drink, sir?" the waiter asks, pulling out his clipboard and pen.

"Any preferences?" Mike asks Blaire.

"I'll have whatever you're having," she replies, trying to hide the fact that she never drinks anymore and doesn't know what's good and what's not.

"In that case, we'll take the Sparkling Dawn, please," Mike answers, ordering like he eats here all the time.

"So, do you come here often?" Blaire asks, mentally kicking herself when she realizes that she just used a pick up line by accident.

Mike laughs at her reddening cheeks and nods his head. "Yeah, whenever I can."

"So, you bring all of your dates here?" Blaire questions, watching as the waiter brings their drinks for them.

"No. My friend owns the place so I get a discount whenever I eat here," he laughs.

Blaire laughs too, making him smile crookedly and place his hands in front of him on the table. Blaire suddenly hopes he won't want to hold hands because she doesn't want to ruin everything by rejecting him.

Luckily, he turns his attention to the waiter pouring their drinks and a silence encloses them. Two menus are placed down in front of them and they silently open them, reading over the specials.

"Oh, the cheese soufflé sounds good. I think I'll get some of that," Blaire says, looking up from her menu at Mike. The waiter scribbles down her request on his notebook and awaits Mike's order.

"Yeah, that does sound good but I think I'm going to try something a little different tonight," Mike mumbles as he continues to scan his menu.

He seems to find something that suits his request because his eyebrows shoot up and he bites his lip. "I'll take one order of the Hachis Parmentier, please," he orders, passing his menu up to the waiter.

"Right away, sir," the waiter says backing away from the table and nodding to both of them before turning and heading back inside.

They exchange some more small talk until the food is brought out and placed in front of them along with two more long glasses filled with sparkling red wine. "Thank you," Blaire says as her soufflé is placed down in front of her.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?" the waiter asks, stepping back from the table.

Mike looks at Blaire and she shakes her head. "No, I think we're good for now."

The waiter smiles down at them and silently turns and walks away.

"Wow, I think that's the fastest I've ever been served," Blaire says in awe.

"Like I said, knowing the owner has its perks," Mike winks at her.

He picks up his fork and cuts through the layers of mashed potatoes and beef. He scoops it into his mouth and closes his eyes as he chews, smiling in satisfaction.

"Oh, that's delicious," he moans, setting down his fork and licking his lips.

Blaire smiles at him and then scoops her fork into her soufflé. It tastes like heaven, lightly dancing on her tongue. "So is this," she adds, shoveling another forkful into her mouth.

"Here, try some of mine," Mike offers, pushing the plate in her direction.

Blaire hesitates before taking a little off the side and carefully guiding it to her mouth. "Mmm," she moans as the juicy flavor makes contact with her tongue, "That is good. Want some of mine?"

"Sure," he answers, reaching across the table and taking a spoonful of her soufflé.

"Amazing, as always," he says, giving her a crooked smile.

The rest of the evening carries on and Blaire gradually warms up to Mike, although she is still treading carefully around him. They order crepes for dessert and on the ride back to her apartment, they talk about the time Mike spent in France with his brother and parents. He talks on and on about how much fun he has travelling and how she should travel if she ever gets the opportunity.

Is this déjà vu?

Kennedy had had the same conversation with Blaire only days ago and now this whole date is beginning to seem a little suspicious. How did it just happen that her and Mike both had such similar lives and that Kennedy had so suddenly forced this date on her? Is Kennedy using him to try to persuade Blaire to take that trip with her or is she really being a concerned about her love life? The questions keep itching at Blaire as she tries to focus on what Mike is saying.

"Then I told her that I couldn't do it because I lost my phone down a gutter. Isn't that crazy?" he asks as he assists her out of the car and Blaire snaps back to reality.

"Yeah... crazy," she answers, not completely aware of what she is answering to. "Mike, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," he replies, walking up the steps leading to the building.

"My sister has nothing to do with this, right?" Blaire asks, looking at him skeptically.

"What do you mean? She set us up, so of course she had something to do with this," he says.

"No, I mean, did she set us up for some other reason, like to try to convince me to do something?" she asks, stopping in front of the door.

"No, why would you think that?" he asks, looking at her genuinely puzzled.

She chuckles stupidly and shakes her head, looking down at his feet. "No reason."

A slight silence falls over them as Blaire continues to stare at the ground. She notices how his feet take a few steps towards her and how his hand reaches out to her, lightly touching her waist and pulling her closer.

She dares a peek up at his face and he's much too close for comfort. She knows by the way he's smiling shyly and continuously glancing from her eyes to her lips that he wants to kiss her. She finds herself drawing away from him and letting his hand fall lamely to his side.

"I'm sorry, Mike. I-I can't," she mumbles, wishing desperately to get away from him without hurting his feelings. He is a really nice guy and doesn't deserve to be rejected like this.

"That's alright," he shrugs, "Maybe another time."

"Yeah," Blaire says weakly, her voice barely audible as she tries to muster a small smile.

He returns a rather more genuine one and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a phone. He turns it on and reaches out his other hand.

"Here, give me your phone and I'll put my number in," he says and Blaire reaches into her bag and slips it out, handing to him.

He quickly types the number in and returns it to her. "That way I won't be able to act clingy if you don't want to see me again," he smiles innocently.

After saying a quick goodbye, Blaire rushes into the apartment, glad to be out of the awkward situation she got herself into. She skips up the stairs and to the hallway, quickly walking to her door and slipping the key into the lock. She sets her purse on the table and is greeted by an anxious Kennedy.

"How did it go? Was he as sweet as I said? Did you get a goodnight kiss?" Kennedy asks hurriedly, jumping off the couch and rushing over to Blaire.

"He was sweet but that was it. Nothing special. No sparks," Blaire replies, shrugging her jacket off and heading to the bathroom.

"What? Blaire you're so stubborn! You can't afford to be this picky!" Kennedy yells in a whisper since she doesn't want to wake Tatum who is asleep on the couch.

The bird, which Tatum had named Carlos, is sleeping in a small cage with his head tucked under his wing.

"I'm not picky! I told you I'm not looking for a relationship right now but you insisted I do it anyways! If you would've just minded your own business I wouldn't have had to hurt Mike like that," Blaire whispers back angrily.

"Trust me, you didn't hurt him too badly and besides, he's too sweet to admit being hurt. So don't feel bad. I'll find you someone else," Kennedy says, ignoring Blaire's angry tone and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She silently clings onto her as Blaire walks towards the bathroom.

"No. No way. You are staying out of my love life from now on," Blaire orders, slipping out from under her arm. "I don't need your help. The perfect guy for me will come along when I'm ready. So, please, please stay out of it."

Kennedy looks like she's going to protest but Blaire shoots her a warning glare and she closes her mouth, sighing. "Fine."

Once Kennedy leaves, Blaire gets into the shower and turns on the hot water. It slowly trickles down her skin and the air fogs up with moisture as she stands there. She can't get the image of Mike's face when she rejected him out of her head. The guilt is pressing in on her and she can't find room to breathe.

Why does Kennedy always insist on butting in on her life? After all, she is the older sister, isn't she supposed to be the one giving the advice and helping Kennedy out? But it is never like that. Even growing up, Kennedy was always the one to take charge while Blaire stood on the sidelines wondering why she couldn't have the confidence to get what she wanted.

Even when she started dating Jace in freshman year, she always found herself going to Kennedy for advice, who always seemed to have enough experience to get Blaire through. When she found out she was pregnant with Tatum, Kennedy was there comforting her and telling off Jace for being the irresponsible asshole he was. But the one real shining moment for Kennedy was when she found out what Jace had done to Blaire. She had never seen her so violent before.

But this is one of those times that Blaire doesn't want Kennedy interfering. She is a big enough girl and she can figure these things out for herself. That's exactly why she told Mike that she will call him. She wants to make sure that she shows up Kennedy by actually trying to maintain a relationship with someone and Mike seems easy enough to get along with. She contemplates what her life will be like if she has someone like that in her life. Will it make this whole horrible situation easier? Will it make it harder? She doesn't know the answers and it looks like she will never find out because she never does call him back.


	7. Chapter 7 | Dreams and Reality

**Many of us spend our whole lives running from feeling with the mistaken belief that you cannot hear the pain. But you have already borne the pain. What you have not done is feel you are beyond that pain.**

**-Kahil Gibran**

 

The next morning, Blaire struggles to get into the elevator at Impressions. Not because there are too many people but because she was having second thoughts about coming to work at all this morning.

She'd hardly gotten any sleep the night before and when she did it was filled with the dreams of Tatum's sickness that haunt her nearly every night, leaving her gasping with tears and running off to make sure that Tatum is still sound asleep across the hall.

Only this time she'd forgotten that Tatum was sleeping on the couch where she'd left her hours before in the fear of waking her and her dream suddenly felt like reality. She'd ran frantically around the apartment until she found Tatum curled up on the couch, snoring softly.

This had become a tiring routine the past few months and Blaire often felt the lack of enthusiasm to come into work. Especially when she had to deal with Parker, only it isn't Parker who sets her off on this gloomy morning. It's Harry.

"Hey!" he shouts as she's stepping out of the elevator and walking down the hallway to her office.

She looks around, wondering who is calling for her when she spots him jogging to catch up with her.

"Can I help you?" she asks, trying to keep her voice as polite as possible but it still comes out hostile.

"No, not really," he answers, brushing his long fingers through his curls.

"Then what do you want?" she snaps, clearly too tired for this conversation right now.

"I heard you went on a date," he says, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"So what? Are you my father now?" Blaire explodes a look of disbelief on her features.

"No. I was just wondering why you agreed to go on a date with him and not me?" he answers, calmly. She stares at him incredulously as a smirk creeps up on his lips.

"Gee, I wonder why?" Blaire spats, "A nice guy like him and an asshole like you. How could I ever decide?"

"Isn't it obvious?' he smirks, gesturing to himself and winking at her.

Blaire huffs and spins around, walking away from him.

"Hey! Where are you going?" he calls after her and she can hear the chuckle in his voice as she continues to storm away.

"Far away from you!" she calls back, resisting the urge to flip him off.

She angrily pushes the door to her office open and hurries to her desk, clenching her teeth and muttering profanities under her breath. Harry seems to have an uncanny talent of setting her on edge whenever she speaks to him.

She throws herself into her chair, causing it to roll back and bump into someone.

"Sorry," she mutters, pulling it back into her office area and placing her bag on the desktop.

The sound of a man clearing his throat from behind her makes her glance over her shoulder. She takes in the casual figure of Parker, smirking down at her with both hands grasping the back of her chair. "Good to see you're on time today," he points out, glancing at his watch.

"Well, I didn't want to deal with your consequences again if I wasn't," she shoots back, the anger in her resurfacing once more.

"Good girl," he replies, patting her shoulder gently and making her flinch away from him.

She waits patiently until he is out of sight before swearing and pulling her chair closer to the desk. Her eyes sweep over the mess of scattered papers she had left on it from the day before. As hard as she tries, she can't seem to concentrate on her work. Her mind keeps going back to the argument her and Harry had only a few moments ago.

Why does he care about who she dates and doesn't? How did he even find out about her date in the first place?

Of course, she thinks to herself, throwing down her pen down on the desk, he was following her again.

She spends the next hour thinking of ways she can confront him and demand that he leave her alone but all of them seemed to end with his devilish smirk and audacious refusal to stop.

Why does it have to be her? Out of all the girls in the city, he picks the one that refuses to give him the time of day. Why is that?

Before she knows it, the end of the work day has arrived and she's only managed to finish a small amount of paperwork and photo editing. Hopefully Parker won't give her any more trouble for not being up to the company's expectations for one day.

Blaire snatches her bag off of the table and is starting to make her way to the door when her phone starts vibrating in her pocket. She grabs it and checks the caller ID. It's Tatum's school calling. Blaire quickly steps out into the hall so she can hear better and presses the answer button.

"Hello?" she says, pressing the phone against her ear and walking down the hallway.

"Hello. This is Mrs. Morris calling from Easton Elementary School. It's regarding Tatum Carter. Is this Blaire?" answers the small voice of the school nurse.

"Yes. Is she alright?" Blaire asks.

She feels her heart drop in her chest when Mrs. Morris hesitates.

"I'm afraid not. She began complaining about a headache around lunch and now it's turned into a full force fever. We tried to contact you sooner but you weren't answering your phone," she explains gravely.

Blaire's feet move faster as she races down the stairs, not even bothering to wait for an elevator. She mentally curses for turning off her phone this morning.

"Where is she now?" Blaire demands into the phone.

"Still at the school. We wanted to take her to a doctor but we needed parental permission first," she says apologetically.

"I'll be right there," Blaire says before ending the call and rushing over to the nearest person she can find.

"Flynn!" she yells making him spin around and look at her in surprise as she rushes over to him.

"What's wrong?" he asks, taking in the worried look on Blaire's face.

"It's Tatum. She's got a fever and she's at school and I need to get to her," Blaire says quickly, grabbing onto Flynn's arm and dragging him along.

"Alright. I'll take you there," he says, picking up his pace as they race to the parking lot.

Traffic is thick but Flynn expertly weaves in and out of the cars, saying simple words of comfort to Blaire and allowing her to clasp onto his hand the entire way there. With only a few blocks to go, the traffic becomes unbearably busy and they are forced to stop.

"Shit!" Blaire exclaims, letting go of Flynn's hand and craning her neck to see how bad the traffic really is.

The cars stretch out in front of them for blocks and a feeling of dread sweeps over Blaire. "I have to get to her, Flynn."

"I know. I'm sure traffic will clear up soon enough," he replies calmly.

"No! I have to get to her right now!" Blaire explodes and opens the car door in one fluid movement.

"Meet me there!" she calls over her shoulder as she begins to run.

Even though she's darting between people and cars as fast as she can, it doesn't seem like she's making any progress. All she can think about is Tatum's tiny body fighting for her life and depending on Blaire to get there as fast as possible.

Finally, Easton Elementary school comes into view ahead of her and she finds herself running even faster than she thought possible. She darts up the walkway and bursts through the front doors, turning left and running past all the classrooms, straight to the nurse's office.

Mrs. Morris is waiting for her but Blaire doesn't seem to notice as she rushes past and straight to Tatum, who's lying on the bed.

"Mommy," Tatum croaks out when she sees Blaire's face hovering over her.

"I'm here," Blaire whispers, sitting down on the side of the bed and stroking Tatum's hair, "Everything's going to be okay now."

"As you can see she's quite weak. We almost had to carry her from her classroom because she could hardly stand," Mrs. Morris says, standing in the doorway and watching the scene unfolding before her.

She is a stout, old lady with kind, blue eyes that show years of experience working as a school nurse. Situations like this are normal for her, seeing that this isn't the first time Tatum has been lying on this bed.

Only a few months before, Tatum was found sleeping here after she had violently thrown up on the bathroom floor. One of the first signs of the cancer that Blaire had brushed off as being a common flu. It was only when her body was unable to fight it off that Blaire knew something else was wrong.

Blaire continues stroking Tatum's hair as she looks up at Mrs. Morris with disbelief flashing in her eyes. "She could hardly even stand and you didn't think about how serious that was! You should have done more than just try to call me! You should have sent someone to get me!"

"Blaire, I understand how your feeling right now but you have to realize that we did everything we could to contact you," Mrs. Morris replies, reaching out a calming hand to Blaire who knocks it away.

"No you didn't! If you did she would have been at the hospital hours ago!" Blaire exclaims, her anger at the nurse rising every second she stands there. But her anger immediately subsides when she feels Tatum tugging on her sleeve.

"Don't be mad, mommy. I'm alright," she whispers, trying to sit up but winces in pain and lays back down.

"Where does it hurt?" Blaire asks, stepping off of the bed so she can face Tatum properly.

"Here," she answers, pointing at her stomach.

"Alright," Blaire sighs, standing up and brushing off her jeans. "We're getting you out of here."

She ignores Mrs. Morris' protests as she scoops up her daughter and exits the room.

"Are we going to the doctor?" Tatum mumbles into her shoulder as they walk down the hallway.

"Yes," Blaire answers, shifting Tatum's position so she is easier to carry.

The silence that fills the air after that makes Blaire's heart break. She knows how much Tatum dreads spending time in the hospital and how much she had wished that the cancer wouldn't make reappearance.

The both of them had been wishing and hoping that the treatments would fix everything and they would be back to normal, but the problem is it's hopeless to believe in wishes. Blaire knows what Tatum doesn't understand and that is that they haven't seen the last of the Leukemia quite yet.

Flynn is standing against his car in the school parking lot waiting for them as Blaire appears through the doorway. He jogs over to her and reaches out, signalling for her to give Tatum to him. She carefully passes her over and soothingly brushes her fingers through Tatum's hair before running over to the car and opening the backdoor. She gets in the middle seat and Flynn gently places Tatum down beside her so that she can lean into her mother while they drive.

Flynn rushes to the front of the car and starts the engine as Blaire helps Tatum buckle her seat belt. Then they are off, driving a bit more cautiously now that Tatum is with them. Blaire has a protective arm around her shoulder and Tatum is resting her head on the back of the seat.

She looks up at Blaire with sleepy eyes and says, "I still want to learn how to drive."

Flynn can't help himself when he lets out a chuckle and even Blaire finds a smile creeping up on her lips. She has to admit that it feels good to laugh even if it is a slightly strained one.

A few minutes later, they pull into the parking lot at Saint Michael's Children's Hospital and Blaire sighs in relief. She looks down at Tatum who's almost fallen asleep and then up at Flynn whose ready to carry her in.

"We're here," Blaire whispers and strokes Tatum's cheek.

"Okay," she answers although it's barely audible.

Blaire nods at Flynn and he carefully places his hands behind Tatum's back, pulling her against his chest and allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. Blaire exits the car and they slowly make their way to the door.

Once they're inside, Blaire rushes over to the nearest nurse and explains their emergency. She guides them calmly to the emergency room where they wait for a doctor. About ten minutes later, a tall man with black hair and a careful smile walks into their room, closing the door behind him.

"Hello there. My name is Doctor Peters," he greets, holding out his hand for Blaire and Flynn to shake.

"Hello, I'm Blaire Carter and this is Flynn. We're here because my daughter Tatum has a terrible fever and a pain in her stomach area. She was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia last February and we're scared that it might be relapsing," Blaire explains frantically but Doctor Peters gives her a reassuring smile and places a large hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure it's nothing we can't handle," he smiles and pulls out the clipboard he had tucked underneath his arm.

"Tatum Carter. Yes, she's been through her first round of chemotherapy and hasn't had any major problems since," he mumbles to himself as he reads her file. Then he sets it down on the chair beside Blaire and walks over to Tatum.

"Hello Tatum, how are you doing?" he asks, crouching down beside her bed.

She looks over at him and gives him a weak smile. "Not too good but nothing I can't handle," she replies making him chuckle and Blaire smile.

"Well, would it be alright if I checked things out anyways?" he asks, standing up and unraveling his stethoscope.

"Yes," she replies.

"Alrighty then," he says, bending down and placing the stethoscope to her chest. He asks her to take in deep breaths before assisting her in sitting up and placing it on her back.

"Heart sounds fantastic," he beams, laying Tatum back down and slinging the stethoscope back around his neck.

Next he checks her temperature, frowning slightly when it shows up at 102 degrees.

"Well, it looks like you do have quite the fever. But nothing a little medication won't fix. Now can you relax for me, I need to check your stomach?" he asks and Tatum nods, lying perfectly still on the thin mattress.

Doctor Peters gently presses his fingers along her abdomen but doesn't seem to notice anything unusual. He stands up when he's finished and faces Blaire with his hands clasped together.

"She seems to have nothing seriously wrong with her right now so I give you permission to take her home. I will provide you with some acetaminophen before you go to help with that fever. If anything else happens don't hesitate to bring her back," he informs her, smiling gently and picking up his files.

"What about her weakness though? What's the cause of that?" Blaire asks, looking concernedly from the doctor to Tatum.

"Well, that's most likely a side effect to the fever. Just make sure she gets some rest so she can build her strength back up," he answers.

"Okay. Thank you," Blaire sighs in relief.

She can't believe that Tatum's going to be alright. Hadn't she only thought less than an hour ago that her life was in danger? Nevertheless, Blaire can't keep the smile off her face as Flynn carries a very sleepy Tatum back to the car.

In fact, she is still smiling down at her sleeping daughter when they arrive back at her apartment and Flynn carries Tatum into bed. Blaire is so overjoyed that she didn't even notice the figure of a man sitting on the steps a few buildings down, watching her intently and then disappearing silently into the shadows.

The next few days pass by smoothly. Blaire takes the next day off of work to watch over Tatum but can't stay home until she's better so she gets Kennedy and Charlie to stay with her for the rest of the week.

As the days go by, Tatum shows small improvements and eventually she gains some of her energy back. A week and a half later, the fever seems to have finally left her system for good and Blaire is allowing her to go back to school the next day.

"I can't wait to see my friends tomorrow and tell them I'm okay," she says to Blaire as she tucks her into bed.

"I'm sure they'll be very happy to see you, too," Blaire responds, bending down and kissing the top of her head.

"I think I'm going to thank Mrs. Morris too, since she helped me," Tatum adds, settling her head into the pillows.

"Alright, but for now you better go to sleep," Blaire warns, walking over to the door and placing her hand on the light switch. "I love you. Goodnight."

"I love you, too, mom," Tatum says just before Blaire turns off the light and slowly closes the door, leaving it open just a crack. Tatum feels her eyes getting heavier despite the excitement of school tomorrow and soon they close and she falls fast asleep.

Tatum shoots up in her bed, gasping for air and attempting to scan her surroundings in the darkness. Her skin feels sticky and wet as she examines the thin layer of sweat on her arms and face. A sharp pain shoots from her stomach and she clutches it, immediately removing her hand when she realizes how weird it feels.

Slowly, she swings her legs over the side of the bed and places her feet on the carpeted floor. A feeling of light headiness sweeps through her followed by a rush of heat. She thinks it must be the fever again as she wipes her sweaty forehead on her pyjama top and begins to stumble to her mom's room.

Her stomach receives another jerking feeling as she reaches Blaire's bedroom door and she lets out a gasp of pain. "M-mom," she sobs, as a sudden fear sweeps over her.

"Mom!" she cries out, stumbling to the bed and shaking her.

Blaire awakens with a start, staring at Tatum in the dim light and trying to figure out what is going on.

"Tatum? What's wrong?" she asks when her eyes adjust and meet the tear-streaked face of her young daughter.

"It hurts," she sniffles and Blaire looks down at her stomach which she is covering with both her hands.

Blaire sits up in the bed so quickly she sees stars but it doesn't faze her from placing both hands on Tatum's abdomen and gasping when her fingers make contact with the swollen area.

"Get your coat on, Tatum. We're taking you to the hospital."

A few hours later, Blaire is sitting in a chair outside of the waiting room as Doctor Peters comes up to her, carrying a few pieces of paper in his hands. The results, she frets, looking up at him with tired eyes. He looks back at her with a sad smile and sits down beside her.

"I'm afraid this is more serious than I first thought," he says and Blaire places her face in her hands, letting out the worried sigh she's been holding in since they arrived.

"What are her chances?" Blaire asks, looking up at Doctor Peters.

"It's spread to her liver, Blaire. The chances aren't looking good right now but you can't give up hope," he sighs, placing his hand on top of hers.

Blaire feels a lump rise in her throat and doesn't even try to keep the sobs from coming. Doctor Peters gives her a sympathetic smile and stands up.

"I'll be in the room next door when you're ready to talk some more," he announces before leaving Blaire alone, wishing that this is just another one of her bad dreams.


	8. Chapter 8 | A Little Less Bland

**All things are difficult before they are easy.**

**-Thomas Fuller**

 

The car ride home a week later signifies a lot more for Tatum than it does for anyone else. Blaire knows that it's far from the last time they will spend inside those hospital walls but for now Tatum can't contain her happiness. Despite being on all sorts of fluids and medications, Tatum was the life of the hospital while they were there. Always making the nurses and doctors laugh with her unending questions and stories.

Doctor Peters had talked to Blaire about her options on the night she got there and all signs seem to be pointing to radiation therapy along with the second round of chemotherapy. If Blaire thought she was stressed out about money before, it's nothing compared to now. How is she going to afford all these new treatments and medications? What if they end up not making a difference at all and she just wastes her money? She can't take that risk, though. Tatum needs it now and Blaire has to make a decision.

"Blaire let us help you," Kennedy pleads but Blaire turns away from her and paces across the room.

"I'm not taking your money from you," she protests to Kennedy and then turns to Flynn who is casually leaning against the counter. "Or you."

"Stop being so humble Blaire, we want you to have it," Flynn says.

"I'm not being humble! I really don't want it!" Blaire refuses, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"How did I end up with the most stubborn sister in the world?" Kennedy exclaims. "Blaire, take it, please. You know Tatum needs it and there's no way you're going to come up with it yourself in this amount of time."

"I don't want your money," Blaire denies weakly, feeling tears collecting in her eyes.

"Blaire," Kennedy whispers but Blaire doesn't answer.

Her head drops into her hands and her body begins shaking with sobs. Kennedy doesn't hesitate before throwing her arms around her sister and pulling her into a tight hug. She doesn't push the offer any further after that, knowing that Blaire is still in too much shock to accept anything from them anyways.

After making her a cup of tea, Kennedy sits down on the couch with Blaire and they put in her favorite childhood movie _Beauty and The Beast_ to try to take her mind off of everything. Flynn goes into the kitchen and makes popcorn. It doesn't take long for Tatum to wake up from her nap and cuddle in with them as well. Blaire pulls her onto her lap and rests her chin on her head, cherishing the time she gets to spend with her daughter.

"I hope you'll find your prince soon, mommy," Tatum whispers part way through the movie.

"I hope so too," Blaire whispers back.

She tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach and the way her eyes burn. She has no time to focus on her prince anymore. In fact, she doesn't even care if he ever comes along. All she wants is to spend every second she can with Tatum and all a guy will be now is a distraction from doing that.

~

Blaire's head is pounding as she leaves the empty elevator, ready to go home. Parker has been really rough her all afternoon since she insisted on texting Kennedy to make sure Tatum was doing alright. He even had the nerve to tell her she should just take a few days off of work so that when she comes back, she could actually do her job.

Blaire knows that it's a crazy request. She is struggling so much with money that she has been elongating her hours at work, even after listening to Kennedy's protests about how it is affecting her mental health. But she doesn't care what anybody else thinks now, all she wants is to go home and relax.

Just as she's about to leave the building, the feeling that she's forgetting something strikes her. She stops in her tracks and her mind races back to the phone she left sitting on her desk. She sticks her hand in her purse and pushes the objects around, coming up empty-handed.

"Shit," she mutters and starts walking back to the elevator.

She presses the button on the wall angrily and a beep sounds, signalling that the elevator has arrived. The metal doors slide open and a familiar curly-haired man appears. Blaire jumps in surprise, making Harry smile devilishly and give her a quick wink.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets and leans his tall body against the wall.

Blaire huffs, ignores his comment and rushes past him to the far side of the elevator. She waits for him to exit but he remains standing there, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Which floor?" he asks.

"Aren't you getting off?" she snaps and he shrugs in response.

"Nah, I've changed my mind," he smirks before turning back to the buttons on the wall. "Now which floor?"

"Floor nine," she answers, crossing her arms and backing further into the corner.

He presses the button and leans back against the wall as the doors slide shut. Blaire can't contain the panic that surges through her as Harry stands there staring at her. She finds herself adjusting her sweater around her body, feeling incredibly exposed.

Here she is standing only a few feet away from Harry with no escape if he tries anything on her. As if on cue, he moves away from his position against the wall and walks over to Blaire, leaning in the empty spot beside her. He is close enough to smell the sweet cologne radiating off of him and feel his warmth. Blaire tries to cringe further into the corner but something about him keeps pulling her towards him, almost like he's a magnet.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have an extremely short temper?" Harry asks, raising his eyebrows at Blaire.

"Has anyone ever told you you're an asshole?" she spats back.

"Actually you've told me that several times now," he points out, smiling lopsidedly down at her. "But as I've told you before, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

"Good thing I've read the synopsis then," she replies.

He chuckles and shakes his head.

"No, really, why is it every time I talk to you I get these hostile replies?" he asks.

"Well, I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you provoke me," she answers.

The elevator comes to a stop and Blaire's feet can't move fast enough to the doors. Harry is quickly on her heels, keeping up easily with his long legs.

"You didn't enjoy yourself, did you?" Harry asks, making Blaire look at him puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" she asks over her shoulder, walking so fast she is struggling to not break into a run.

"On your date," he smirks.

"That was a long time ago and it's still none of your business," she argues, reaching out and opening the door to her office floor.

Luckily, the room is empty. She doesn't want her co-workers to see her with Harry.

"You should try dating someone a little less bland next time," he suggests.

"If you're talking about yourself, you're crazy," she spats, bending down and pocketing her phone.

"Admit it. You want me," he says lowly as she walks past him out the door.

"I've never wanted you," she answers, biting her lip to hold back the truth.

She does want him, so badly. There is just something about him that makes her feel like she's an exposed wire.

"Prove it," he says, "Come on a date with me."

She stops in her tracks and spins around to face him. "And how will that prove anything?"

"Well, if you still don't want me after one date then I promise to leave you alone," he explains as they enter the elevator once again.

Blaire doesn't give him a straight answer right away so he stands against the opposite wall and spends the time staring at her. Blaire has no idea what to do. If she agrees to go on a date with him then wouldn't he be winning?

She doesn't feel like going anywhere with him, seeing as all they ever do is fight. But at the same time, she wants to do it just to prove to herself that she isn't as attracted to him as she thinks she is.

She slowly takes a deep breath through her nose and makes up her mind.

"Pick me up at seven," she sighs.

A slow smile creeps up on Harry's face that makes Blaire look down to the floor, avoiding his heavenly eyes.

As soon as Blaire gets home, she jumps into the shower, which is one of her favorite places to think and lets the water run hot against her cold skin. Her nerves have been on edge ever since Harry left her standing in the elevator with only a wink and a blown kiss, which both left her completely breathless.

Kennedy had jumped at the chance to have Tatum spend the night with her at her condo when she was told that Blaire was going on a date with a mystery man. Blaire had been too ashamed to admit that it was Harry, knowing that Kennedy would insist on getting a head start on their wedding plans, telling her that they were meant to be. But Blaire is sure she's right about this whole night. She knows that her and Harry will never work out.

She finishes her shower and wraps a thick, white towel around her body. Making her way to her bedroom, she tries to think of what she's going to wear on this date. Her favorite black dress enters her mind but exits just as quickly when she thinks about Harry's hands beginning to wander.

She steps up to her small closet and sifts through her clothes. Pushing aside many old shirts and pants and anything that is too showy for her liking. She pulls out her beige, knitted sweater and holds it up in front of her, looking at the floor length mirror across from her. She decides that it will do and then proceeds to pick out her black, skinny jeans to go along with it.

Collecting her outfit, she heads to the bathroom to dry her hair and get dressed. After a lot of second guessing herself, she decides to leave her hair down and save herself the trouble. She gently applies a light pink lipstick to her lips and touches up her previous makeup. After pulling on a pair of heels, she sits down at the table and waits.

Every second that ticks by makes her begin to wish she hadn't agreed to do this. She's known that there was something weird about Harry ever since the first time she saw him. Something dangerous even. After all, any guy that stalks a girl should be classified as a creep and shunned by any girl he reaches out to. Why did Blaire make it so easy for him to get to her like this? She should have tried harder to keep him away.

A knock on the door interrupts her worrying and she slowly walks towards it. Her heart starts beating faster in her chest as she opens the door, knowing that as soon as she sees those eyes all of her previous thoughts will be swept away.

Harry is dressed in a plaid shirt that's unbuttoned halfway down to show off his chest and tattoos. A small necklace Blaire hadn't noticed before is hanging around his neck, swinging gently as he smirks down at her with soft dimples dotting his cheeks.

"Hi," Blaire gapes, trying to not look at a part of him that distracts her but fails, settling for his captivating eyes instead.

"Hi," he smiles, leaning against the door frame and taking in her whole body. "Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah," Blaire replies breathily and grabs her jacket off the hook.

Harry straightens up and walks out into the hallway, waiting for Blaire to lock the door behind her. The walk downstairs to the cab is silent and Blaire is surprised with Harry. She was expecting them to be squabbling already but Harry is actually being normal.

The sight outside makes Blaire stop and stare at him, puzzled. There is no cab waiting for them. Is he expecting her to walk wherever they're going in these heels?

"Over here," he says, slipping a finger under her elbow and turning her towards the parking lot.

The small touch sends goose bumps erupting over Blaire's skin and it's almost as if he knows because a smirk pulls on his lips.

He leads her to a low, black car with two silver stripes down the hood at the far end of the lot. Her mouth falls open at the sight.

"This is yours?" she asks, staring up at him.

"Yes," he answers smiling proudly. "It's a 1969 Chevrolet Camaro. My father gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday."

"Wow," she gushes, desperately wanting to reach out and touch it but afraid that Harry will get angry. She's quickly pinned him as the type of guy that would treat his car as his 'baby'.

"Are you getting in or not?" Harry asks, standing next to the passenger's side with the door already open and waiting.

"Yeah," Blaire says, snapping out of her trance.

She walks over to him and gently slides into the seat, admiring how the interior is even more beautiful than the exterior. The seats are real leather and the same jet black color as the outside. The dashboard is covered in all sorts of gadgets, topped off with an old fashioned radio located in the middle of the console.

Harry closes the door and walks over to the driver's side, taking a seat behind the large steering wheel and starting the engine. Blaire notices how he has lots of key chains hanging off his rearview mirror that resemble the type you purchase in a souvenir shop.

"Do you travel lots?" she asks, gesturing to the abundance of chains jingling between them.

"A bit," he replies, putting the car into drive.

The engine purrs quietly to life and Harry shifts uncomfortably in his seat, biting his lip almost to hold back saying something. Blaire considers asking him what's on his mind but shakes it off when she remembers that it's none of her business.

They drive a few blocks down the road and turn into a familiar looking pizzeria. Blaire's mind immediately races back to A Night in Paris with Mike and how romantic it was. A pizzeria is nothing compared to that. If Harry really wants to win her over, he is going to have to try a lot harder than this.

As if he's reading her mind, he turns to her and smirks, "Let's go."

Harry gets out and runs around the car to open her door. Although reluctantly, Blaire smiles in appreciation. Again, she thinks back to her previous date and how Mike had already had an arm wrapped around her waist. Hadn't Harry seemed like the type of guy who would have tried something like that by now? Or maybe he is being smart in making her wait so that she will crave the contact even more later on.

They walk into the small restaurant which is nearly full. Everywhere Blaire looks there are screaming and giggling children and flustered parents trying to reclaim control over them. This definitely is not Blaire's ideal location for a first date.

Harry doesn't seem to notice though because he doesn't hesitate before pulling out a chair at an empty table and gesturing for Blaire to sit down. She sits and he easily pushes in her chair, walking around the table and sitting down opposite to her. He smiles and wiggles his eyebrows playfully making it hard for Blaire to hide her smile.

A few seconds later, a young waitress comes over to their table, flipping her blonde streaked hair out of her face as she eyes up Harry.

"Can I take your order?" she asks, giving off a radiantly, flirty smile that's directed completely at Harry.

"Yes. We'll take the extra hot chicken wings and two glasses of water," he answers, not even bothering to glance at his menu or ask Blaire what she would like.

She stares at him incredulously as the waitress scribbles down their order and struts away.

"What?" he shrugs. "They've got the best appetizers in the whole city."

Blaire shakes her head and focuses on one family in particular only a few feet away from them. They have two young daughters; one looks around Tatum's age, which are busy coloring in the pictures that are placed in front of them.

Blaire then finds herself reminiscing about the times she used to bring Tatum here when she was younger. Sometimes she wishes that Tatum could have had a normal childhood. Then the only thing she would have to worry about is coloring in a picture at her favorite restaurant.

The spunky waitress returns a few moments later with two glasses of water on a tray, a bowl of wings in her hand, and the same ridiculous smile plastered on her face.

"Here you go," she says, placing them down on the table and once again turning all of her attention to Harry.

"Thank you," he replies, giving her a lopsided smile to which she lets out a quiet giggle and bounds away to her next table.

Harry immediately dives his hand into the bowl and grabs a wing, leading it to his mouth and taking a bite. Blaire watches as his eyes begin to water and he immediately reaches for his drink, desperate to put out the fire blooming on his tongue.

"Your turn," he says to Blaire once he finally catches his breath again.

"Um, no thanks. I don't really like spicy food," she replies but he shoves the bowl in her direction anyways.

"Come on. How are you supposed to have fun if you won't take any risks?" he asks and she glares at him across the table, making him chuckle.

Gingerly, she reaches out her hand and picks up a wing, feeling the sticky sauce beginning to coat her fingers. She lifts it up to her mouth and feels her nose burning at the scent of the sauce radiating off of it. Harry nods and she takes a deep breath before taking a big bite out of it.

The taste immediately sets her mouth on fire and her eyes begin spilling tears. She quickly swallows the chicken, feeling her throat burn in protest as she reaches for her water. Harry laughs satisfactorily as she continues to suffer and she glares at him again through watery eyes.

"How was that?" he chuckles, handing her a napkin.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" she chokes out, wiping her hands.

"Far from it. It's my idea of a good time," he replies, winking at her and picking up another wing.

This time he eats it all at once and picks up another one, despite his eyes watering profusely.

"Care for another?" he asks and Blaire abruptly shakes her head. She isn't going to fall for anymore of his ridiculous ideas tonight.

"Come on, you need to loosen up a bit. What are you so afraid of?"

"Right now, I'm afraid of losing all the taste buds in my mouth," she replies making him laugh.

"Fair enough. Let's get out of here," he says, waving the waitress back over.

"What?" Blaire asks, wondering why they are leaving when they just got there. Was it something she said?

"Can we get the bill?" he asks the waitress, ignoring Blaire's question.

The waitress looks at him confused but reaches onto her clipboard and hands him a bill anyways. He pulls out some cash and hands it to her.

"Keep the change," he winks and she smiles at him again, still with the confused look on her face.

"Have a nice evening! I hope you enjoyed your... meal!" she calls after them as Blaire follows Harry back to his car.

"Why are we leaving? We haven't even eaten yet," Blaire asks as he opens the door for her again.

"You'll see," he answers, closing the door and jogging around to his side.

Blaire is quiet the whole ride to their next destination. She knows that there's no point in pestering him further about it and she's still too confused about what happened to want to talk to him about anything else.

They pull up outside another restaurant and Blaire feels another wave of confusion sweep through her. She looks outside her window at the plain looking building called Pete's Grill and Bar. One of the many places in New York that she has never considered entering.

"Come on," Harry says, standing outside her door.

Blaire steps out and follows him once again to the front door. At the entrance, they are greeted by a man that seems to know Harry since he nods at him and says, "Hey, Styles," before allowing them inside. Harry walks over to the table closest to the bar and they sit down, waiting for someone to come and serve them.

"So, how do you like me so far, sweetheart?" he asks, smiling cockily at her and placing his hands on the table.

"You're lovely," Blaire replies sarcastically.

She looks around the bar, taking in the men and women around them. Most of them are drinking beer and watching a football game on one of the several flat screen televisions hanging on the walls. Every once and a while, they erupt in cheers or cries of protest, slamming their glasses on the tables and sloshing beer everywhere.

A waiter finally arrives at their table, dressed in a black, buttoned up shirt. Blaire sits there admiring his perfectly cut jawline and stunning, blue eyes. It's her turn to have some fun with the servers this time.

"What can I get you guys?" he asks, pulling out a small notebook and getting his pen ready.

"Burgers sound good?" Harry asks Blaire and she swears she feels him brush his foot against hers under the table, making her glance over at him in shock.

"Yeah," she replies, her voice showing that she is a little preoccupied.

"And to drink?" the waiter adds.

"A beer for me," Harry orders, almost with a threatening look on his face as the waiter turns to look at Blaire.

"Just water please," she says and he nods, writing down her request.

"No, no. Get her something a bit more exotic," Harry interrupts, causing Blaire to stare at him in disbelief.

Does he really think that he can make her decisions for her? Nevertheless, she doesn't object to the gesture, feeling that maybe he is right. Maybe she does need to come out of her comfort zone.

The waiter nods and giving Blaire one more longing smile, walks off to the kitchen.

"Prick," Harry mutters under his breath, grumpily staring at the door that he disappeared behind.

"He was polite," Blaire says, making him jump since she wasn't supposed to hear. "Maybe you should take lessons."

"He was a little too polite for my liking," Harry grumbles as the waiter comes back into view, carrying their drinks.

Blaire rolls her eyes and thanks the waiter as he sets down the drink in front of her. It's a lime green color and she shakes her head, thinking back to how Harry had asked for an exotic drink.

Harry immediately pops the cap off his beer and takes a long drink before setting it down on the table in front of him. His eyes fall onto Blaire and she meets them, immediately looking away, feeling extremely uncomfortable. His stare never wavers from her face until their waiter returns, carrying two platters with burgers on top.

"Enjoy," he whispers to Blaire, brushing her arm with his hand as he straightens up and making Harry's eyes turn a dark color. He clears his throat and the waiter looks at him briefly before leaving again.

Blaire immediately digs in to her burger, trying to avoid having to make any more conversation with Harry. He doesn't try though, instead he turns his attention to the game, only occasionally stealing glances at her until he's finished eating. Blaire doesn't even get the chance to finish hers though because the waiter returns once again.

She takes a sip of her drink and watches for Harry's reaction. She wonders if the way the waiter is acting towards her has anything to do with his sudden silence and constant frowning. The darkness that clouds his eyes still hasn't retreated.

The waiter stops beside their table and he's about to say something when he drops his pen. Harry takes into account how he deliberately kicks it under the table. The waiter bends down to pick it up, spending a bit longer than needed under the table and Harry knows exactly why. Blaire gasps a few moments later when his hand brushes her calve.

"Sorry," he coughs, standing up quickly and smiling openly at Blaire who continues to look violated.

Harry's fist clenches on the tabletop, making his whole arm tremble as he struggles to remain seated.

"Can I get you anything else?" he asks, mainly to Blaire.

"No. We're leaving," Harry growls, standing up from the table and throwing a wad of cash down.

As he walks over to Blaire, Harry bumps into the waiter so roughly that he almost stumbles into the table behind him.

"Come on, Blaire," he orders and Blaire doesn't hesitate to obey him.

As soon as she's standing, he wraps his large arm around her shoulders and guides her away. She can't escape the feeling of butterflies and goose bumps that cover her body as he pulls her closer. The smell of his cologne reaches her nose and she resists the urge to snuggle closer into his protective body.

He curses under his breath as he leads her to the car and angrily pulls open the door, making the whole car shake. Blaire quickly slips into the car as he storms over to the driver's side. She doesn't even protest when he places a hand on top of her knee the whole way, still teeming with anger.

They pull up at another destination a few minutes later and Blaire looks at him surprised. She was sure that after what just happened he was taking her home. He takes a deep breath, calming himself before he turns to her and finally speaks.

"I'm sorry about what happened back there," he says, his eyes trying to meet hers but she keeps them directed at the floor.

"It's fine. I'm used to it," she admits, running her fingers through her hair.

"You shouldn't have to be," he says, reaching down and prodding her chin with his knuckles, finally getting a smile out of her.

When she doesn't say anything, he shuffles out of his seat and opens the door for her, bending down so that his face is right in front of hers. She looks into his eyes and notices how much more beautiful they are up close. They're such a bright green in color they're almost transparent with small flecks of blue mixed into his iris. She would gladly stay in this position forever.

"Let's go," he says, backing away and letting Blaire out.

She tries to meet his eyes again but he keeps them trained forward at the cute, little café that they are walking towards. This is definitely different than all the other places they've visited tonight and yet it is one of the most suspicious places. Blaire finds herself wondering how Harry even knows about this place because it doesn't seem like the kind of place he would ever be caught in.

The warmth that radiates through them as they walk inside is welcoming and sweet. The smell of pastries and coffee immediately fills Blaire's nose, making her anxious to sit down and stay a while.

Harry leads Blaire over to a small table in the corner far away from everyone else. There's an old man sitting near them reading a newspaper and drinking coffee but he doesn't seem to acknowledge their arrival. Harry gets up to buy two coffees and a box of assorted donuts and brings them back to the table.

"So, is there any reason you been dragging me from place to place all night?" Blaire asks as he sits down across from her with a sigh.

"I told you. I'm trying to be a little less bland," he explains, grabbing for a donut.

"I thought that instead of a regular dinner date I'd spice it up a little by taking you to different places. We started with an appetizer at Leo's Pizzeria, a main course at Pete's Grill and Bar and finally dessert here."

"Very clever," Blaire replies, nodding at him before also reaching for a donut. "But why here? What's so special about this place?"

"It's just a place. Why does it have to have some special importance to it?" he counters, taking a drink from his mug.

"Don't give me that. I saw how everyone here was greeting you like you come here every day. Maybe this is the place that you bring all your dates," Blaire suggests making him shake his head and look mournfully down at his coffee.

"I don't go on dates," he says and Blaire's mouth drops open.

"You've never taken a girl out before?" Blaire gasps and he shakes his head.

"Yes," he replies, still looking down at his hands.

"What happened?" Blaire asks.

"It didn't work out," he states, not showing any signs of elaborating so Blaire doesn't press.

They sit in silence after that. Blaire sips on her coffee, studying Harry over the rim of her cup. He doesn't meet her eyes though as he traces patterns with his finger in the sugar he poured on the surface of the table. She averts her eyes to the window and notices that a heavy downpour has started, pounding against the windows and making everything look blurry.

"I have an idea," Blaire says, making up her mind to take the biggest risk of the night.

Harry looks up from the pattern he made and she continues, "Let's play truth or dare."

It doesn't take long for a smirk to appear on his lips.

"Alright, start with me," he says, his smile growing larger.

"Truth or dare?" Blaire asks.

"Truth," he answers without hesitation.

Blaire is shocked. She was positive he was going to pick dare.

"Okay, um," she stutters, unprepared.

"Why do you follow me everywhere?" she finally asks, quite satisfied with herself.

Harry leans back in his chair and bites his lip. "Because I think you're the most gorgeous girl in the whole city," he answers, the devilish smirk still playing on his lips.

Blaire's cheeks burn hotter than when she was eating the spicy wings and she smiles so big it hurts her cheeks.

"You're turn," Harry says. "Truth or dare?"

Blaire thinks for a moment. If she picks dare, there's no doubt Harry will make her do something socially unacceptable and embarrassing. If she picks truth, he will be able to ask her anything and she will be forced to give him an honest answer.

She sighs and says, "Truth," deciding to pick it since he did.

"Do you want me now?" he asks, never taking his eyes from her face.

She knew something like this was coming but she still isn't prepared to answer him. She knows that she doesn't despise him like before but she still won't admit that she wants him.

"Let's just say I'm warming up to you," she answers, making him smile.

"Good," he says.

Blaire stares at him, wondering what he is thinking. Does he still want her? It seems like he does, but is it the way she wants him?

"I'm waiting," he says, interrupting her thoughts. She's forgotten that they are still playing.

"Truth or dare?" she asks and he leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.

"Dare," he replies confidently.

She looks around the café, trying to think of a good way to embarrass him. Her eyes land on the window and she's struck with a brilliant idea.

"I dare you to go outside and run around your car three times."

He chuckles at what he thinks is a really easy dare and then turns to get up. The smug smile wipes off his face when he catches sight of the rain. He sighs, muttering something under his breath as he stands up and jogs over to the door.

Blaire sits back happily as she watches him open the door and run to his car across the lot, go around it three times and run back. His dripping wet figure enters the café and earns him some weird stares from the customers and staff.

He walks over to their table, his curls sopping wet against his forehead and his shirt clinging to his upper body, showing off his strong arms and toned stomach. Blaire nods to herself, loving this dare even more by the minute.

He sits down with a big, forced smile on his face and announces, "Done."

Blaire can't help how the giggles burst out of her mouth when she sees the look on his face. She buries her face into her hands and tries to contain them but they don't cease.

"Alright then. You do a dare if you think you're so brave," Harry taunts and Blaire raises an eyebrow.

"Go ahead," she says.

His eyes scan the room until he finds the perfect dare.

"See that man over there," he says and Blaire turns around, nodding when she spots the employee making coffee in the corner. "I dare you to go over there and spank his ass."

"Harry!" Blaire exclaims, looking over at him again and giggling. "I can't do that!"

"Of course you can. I dared you" he replies, shrugging. "Or are you too scared?"

"No," Blaire spats, standing up from the table and determinedly walking over to the man.

Before he can notice her appearance, she briefly hits his butt with her hand and turns around, rushing back to the table and hiding her face.

Harry is chuckling when she sits down. She's still covering her face because she knows that everyone is staring at her. She doesn't even want to know what the employee's face looks like.

"Now that I'm thinking back on that, I should've asked you to smack my ass instead," he says, making Blaire look at him angrily.

"Can we leave?" she asks, peeking through her fingers at him.

"No. This just got fun," he laughs and she kicks him under the table.

"Fine. Fine, we'll go."

Harry and Blaire both stand and collect their things before leaving without a backwards glance. Blaire knows that Harry tries with all his might to not bring up her dare all the way back to her apartment.

His hair and clothes are still damp when they arrive outside of her apartment door. Blaire has been dreading this moment ever since they got out of the car. She knew that Harry would want to kiss her goodnight but she knows she can't kiss him back. Not only because she doesn't want to lead him on but because she has been yearning to the whole night and knows that if she does she will be hooked.

As if on cue, Harry moves closer to her and she steps back away from him until her back is pressed against the door. He places a hand beside her face and hovers in front of her. She tries to avoid looking at his soft, pink lips as they part slightly, making them look even more kissable.

She clears her throat, hoping for him to back off but he doesn't even flinch. For someone who doesn't have a lot of dates, he sure is pretty confident around girls.

"Isn't this supposed to be the part where we kiss?" he asks, shuffling even closer and tenderly placing a hand on her hip. Blaire feels that strange pull towards him again but uses all her strength to remain against the door.

"Yeah," she responds. "But I don't want to kiss you."

He chuckles deeply and lets his hand drop back to his side, using the other one to mess up his curls. "Not yet," he whispers. "But you will."

Blaire feels frozen against the door, not sure of what to say to that comment. Harry notices because he reaches down and grabs her hand. Slowly, he brings it up to his mouth and with his eyes never breaking contact with hers, he kisses it.

"Goodnight, Blaire," he says and lets her hand fall limply to her side before turning and walking away.

She watches him until his tall figure disappears around the corner. She tries to go inside but her feet are planted to the floor. The butterflies are still violently attacking her stomach and her blood is pulsing in her veins. She desperately wants to run after him, after her kiss, but her feet still refuse to move. Besides, she's right. It is better this way. 


	9. Chapter 9 | Do You Like Him?

**My darling, you can't see it, can you? How like the moon you are. Both of you so timid in yourselves; hiding pieces from the world. Then, there are those rare moments when you both are full, and it becomes hard to look away. You are beautiful.**

**-Alexandria Drzewiecki**

 

Blaire sighs as she peels yet another sticky note off of her computer screen. She's been finding them everywhere. On her door, in her mailbox, under her desktop and now on her computer. He even had the nerve to give them to her friends and tell them to pass on the message. She assumes this is the price she is going to have to pay for going on a date with her stalker and then avoiding him afterwards.

She has to admit one thing, Harry is definitely persistent. She doesn't think the word "no" is a part of his vocabulary. But one thing is definitely certain. He is going to be harder shake off than Mike was.

Before she crumples the note, she lets her eyes scan quickly over the words.

_You look beautiful this morning. As always. xx H._

She can feel her cheeks heating but she's not sure if it's because she's angry or embarrassed. She crumples the note up and throws it into the garbage under her desk, angrily pulling her chair closer to her desk.

"Carter!" Parker yells across the room, waving a piece of paper above his head.

Everyone in the room turns around in their desks and looks in Blaire's direction. Parker starts walking towards her desk, still waving the paper, a big smile on his face.

"Take a look," he says, throwing it down in front of her.

She quickly skims over it.

_Dear Parker Sterling,_

_Congratulations. We've decided to use your photography on the cover of the **The Times** , April 2013 issue. We will be sending all of your floor staff, including Blaire Carter and Harry Styles, free copies of the issue, along with a framed cover for you to keep._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. and Mrs. Smith_

Blaire drops the paper along with her jaw. She jumps up from her chair in excitement but stops herself just before she hugs Parker.

"I can't believe we actually did it!" she exclaims, making everyone's eyes who had turned back to their work, look up again.

"I know. You surprised everyone. Maybe I'll have to get you and Styles to work together more often. You sure seem to have good worker's chemistry," he says, making Blaire's eyes widen.

"Oh no," she says. "I will not work with him again."

"Oh, Blaire," Parker whines. "Don't tell me you slept with him."

"No! Of course not! We just don't get along," she exclaims. She still isn't planning on telling anyone about their little date.

"Well, in any case, I think you both deserve a raise," Parker offers but he can't even finish because Blaire throws her arms around him.

"Thank you!" she exclaims while Parker stands there wondering what has come over her. "Thank you so much."

When it finally hits him what's going on, she's already pulled out of the hug and smiling sheepishly at him. "Sorry," she whispers, backing away to her desk.

"Don't worry about it," he says, waving it off, "You can throw yourself at me anytime."

Blaire rolls her eyes and sits back down at her desk. It is impossible to have a conversation with that man without him hitting on her. And did she really just hug him? She curses under her breath when she realizes he'll be holding it over her for a long time.

When evening arrives, it brings with it a gloomy overcast. Blaire has always thought that the weather reflects the moods people are in and she doesn't like the look of those depressing clouds at the moment. She collects her things onto her desk and grabs her bag, slinging it over her shoulder and heading towards the exit.

She walks down the hallway and into the elevator. Just as the elevator stops at the ground floor and she's about to get out, she feels a hand briefly touch her back. She turns around but the stranger is already walking out of the elevator at a brisk pace. She reaches behind her and pulls off another sticky note. Angrily, she crumples it and tosses it to the ground, stomping out of the elevator and receiving a concerned look from the desk attendant.

She mutters words that consist of "asshole" and "waste of time" as she walks out into the street and hails a cab. Once she gets home, she notices that she's missed a call earlier that morning. A panic sweeps through her when she reads Doctor Peters' name on the screen and she slowly presses redial. She holds the phone up to her ear and listens to the echoing ring, pacing anxiously around the living room and hoping it will be good news.

"Hello," answers the deep voice of Doctor Peters. "How can I help you?"

"Hi. This is Blaire Carter. I'm returning your call..." she replies, still unsure about the topic since doctors always try to act positive even in bad situations.

"Blaire! I have some news," he announces and Blaire's heart begins to race. "I know we haven't talked this over yet but I did some research anyway and found a young girl that is willing to donate bone marrow to Tatum."

"What?" Blaire asks, sitting down on the couch. What kind of doctor does something like that without permission?

"It's just I know how desperate you are for Tatum to get through this and even though it's a little pricey, I think you can manage it. It's our best bet for Tatum's survival at this point and is usually the best option for long term cancer remission in her type of situation," he explains but Blaire can't think because her head is spinning.

Bone marrow? She doesn't like the sounds of that. It sounds painful and she is sure that a little pricey is a lot more than he is letting on.

"Blaire?" Doctors Peters asks.

"Yes? I'm still here," she answers, sitting up straighter on the couch.

"What do you think about all of this?" he asks.

Blaire takes a deep breath and asks the question she's dreading to know the answer to, "I don't know. All that I'm worried about is the cost. How much is it?"

"Two hundred and ninety thousand dollars," he says and she can hear the tension in his voice.

"Shit," she mouths and then says out loud, "That's a little out of my range."

"I know it is but maybe we can discuss some more details and meet somewhere in the middle. I wouldn't mind going ahead with it and having you pay it off like you were doing with the chemotherapy," he suggests.

"And how much would the pre-installment cost me?" she asks.

"I'm thinking around thirty to fifty thousand dollars," he answers.

Blaire's head spins again. That is a huge difference compared to the initial price but is still a little too much for her to afford. She finds herself thinking of the conversation she had with Kennedy and Flynn a little while ago about money. Maybe it's time to give in and take them up on their offer.

"Okay. How about I get back to you on this?" Blaire asks, standing up from the couch.

"Sounds good to me," he answers.

"Bye," she says quickly and waits for him to answer before immediately pressing end and pulling up Kennedy's number and typing in,

_Ken, I need to talk to you. Come over ASAP._

Then she sends it and presses on Flynn's number, typing in the same message. Flynn is first to reply, telling her he'll be there in ten minutes. Then Kennedy texts back, telling her she was already on her way over before Blaire texted.

Blaire takes her free moment to sneak down to Tatum's bedroom, which is now her bedroom-Blaire has been sleeping on a mattress on the floor- and watches her sleeping soundly. She'd stayed with Charlie today and it looks like he's tired her out.

Blaire remembers when Tatum was younger how she used to sneak over to Charlie's apartment to watch game shows with him. She would go over there to find them screaming answers at the television, usually scoring more points than all the contestants playing.

A knock on the door makes her jump and silently close the bedroom door before tiptoeing down the hallway to answer it. Kennedy's concerned face appears on the other side of the door when it flies open.

"What's wrong? Is it an emergency?" Kennedy asks, throwing down her coat and grabbing Blaire by the arms, staring her down seriously.

"Sort of. I'll tell you when Flynn gets here," Blaire answers, accepting a small hug from her sister before they walk over to the couch.

"So, how's Tate doing?" Kennedy asks, settling herself into her favorite corner seat and wrapping a woolen blanket around her knees.

"Right now? She's sleeping so I would say she's doing better. We've had a lot of sleepless nights," Blaire sighs, sitting down beside Kennedy and lying down with her head resting on her knees.

Kennedy aimlessly strokes Blaire's hair, untangling the small knots as she brushes her fingers through it soothingly.

"Well, I hope she'll be back to normal soon," Kennedy whispers, pulling Blaire's hair back and beginning to plait it in her lap.

"Yeah, I hope so too," Blaire answers, closing her eyes and placing a hand on her forehead.

She feels her lip quiver but is determined not to cry in front of Kennedy. She's been doing that too much lately and knows she is being to worry her sister.

The rapping on the door a few minutes later signals Flynn's arrival. Blaire sits up from her position and gets up to answer the door. Blaire looks at Flynn as he enters the apartment; he shuffles his hands through his hair before smiling down at her. Then he bends down and envelopes her in a comforting hug.

"I got your text. What's up?" he asks, slowly pulling away from her.

"Come in the living room. Kennedy needs to hear it too," Blaire says and Flynn follows her to where Kennedy is still perched on the cushion.

Blaire doesn't know where to start. How many times have they offered their financial help just to have Blaire shut them down, saying she's fine on her own? Blaire doesn't want to see their 'I told you so' smiles when she admits that she does need them.

"Blaire, please say something. You're scaring me," Kennedy bursts out, breaking the silence.

Flynn walks past Blaire and takes a seat on the couch, his eyes focused on her, waiting.

"Alright," Blaire says, taking a deep breath, "I need your help."

"Of course, what can I help you with?" Kennedy asks, moving to sit on the edge of the cushion.

"Well, it's kind of a money issue," Blaire begins. "Doctor Peters just told me that there is a child willing to donate bone marrow to Tatum."

"What?" Kennedy exclaims, cutting Blaire off. "That's great news! Now she really has chance, Blaire!"

"Let me finish first," Blaire scolds and Kennedy falls silent once more.

"He said we can proceed with the operation but the total cost will be two hundred and ninety thousand dollars which we all know there is no way I will be able to afford even with my pay raise."

"Well, the money offer is still here if you'll take it," Kennedy says, looking over to Flynn who nods in agreement.

"That's why I called you guys here. I think I'm ready to accept it," Blaire says, looking from face to face for the slightest sign of doubt. "I mean, you two really are my last hope."

"Well, then it's yours," Kennedy smiles. "And Tatum's."

"We wouldn't want to leave you hanging," Flynn adds. "We are the only friends you have, after all."

Blaire can't even find the words to express her thanks to them. She never seemed to realize before how much the people in her life genuinely care about her and Tatum and it makes her heart swell with gratitude.

Kennedy seems to know how Blaire is feeling because she stands from the couch and silently wraps her arms around her, whispering, "What are you waiting for? Go call Doctor Peters back and tell him you can do it."

~

A knock on the door makes Tatum stop her shuffling in the fridge and glance over her shoulder. She wonders who could be coming over that would be knocking. Usually, her friends and family never knock. She looks around for Blaire and hears the shower running down the hall, meaning that she is on her own for now.

The knocking persists and Tatum puts back the milk she was holding, letting the door slowly click shut. She takes a few steps towards the door, pausing in front of it to see if the person is still there.

Another knock makes her jump slightly. She considers going to get her mom but decides against it, thinking that no one that's dangerous would know this is their apartment. She reaches out and opens the door a crack, revealing a tall man with a crooked smile and a messy head of curls.

"Hello," Harry greets, smiling sweetly down at Tatum.

"Who are you?" she asks, still holding the door almost shut.

"I'm Harry," he answers and bends down so he doesn't look so intimidating. "What's your name?"

"Tatum," she replies, opening the door a little wider.

"Is your mommy here?" Harry asks.

"She's in the shower," Tatum answers, making Harry's eyes glance into the apartment. "You can come in and wait until she's finished if you want."

"Alright," Harry nods and Tatum opens the door all the way to allow him inside.

"I like your slippers," Harry comments and Tatum looks down at her yellow, duck slippers that flap their wings when she walks.

"Thanks," she smiles, leading him into the kitchen.

She pulls out a stool for him and he takes a seat. He immediately starts making the stool spin around in circles, screaming childishly and making Tatum giggle.

"Let me try!" she exclaims and jumps up onto the stool next to him.

He grabs her stool and in one swift movement sends her spinning in circles. She bursts into giggles and spreads her arms out as it comes to a stop. She looks up at Harry's amused expression and smiles at him before beginning to examine him from head to toe.

"So, how old are you?" Harry asks, making her eyes fly up to his face.

"Eight and a half," she replies, spinning carefully back and forth on her stool.

"Wow, aren't you a bit tall for an eight and a half year old?" he asks, making her smile again.

"I'm the tallest kid in my class!" she brags making Harry chuckle.

The sound of running water ceasing makes Harry turn to face the direction of the bathroom.

Blaire has just finished a quick shower to relax herself. Something she's been doing more often lately, sometimes making two or three trips under the water in a day. The sound of laughter and voices makes her stop and listen harder. She swears she hears a man's voice and her heart lurches in her chest. She listens for a few more seconds and thinks that it is just a false alarm, it's probably Charlie or Flynn stopping by for a visit and tells herself that she should stop being so paranoid.

She walks over to the towel rack, leaving steamy footprints along the cold bathroom tile behind her. Grabbing a towel, she wraps it under her arms and using another, dries her hair. After toweling dry, she grabs some leggings and a baggy grey sweater and pulls them on. She ties her hair back in a bun and opens the door, allowing the steam to sweep into the hallway.

The man she heard before speaks again and she stops in her tracks. She recognizes that voice and it's definitely not Charlie or Flynn. It's Harry, the very person she's been trying to avoid for the past few days.

She creeps towards the edge of the hallway and peeks around the corner. Sure enough, she finds him sitting on a stool at the counter beside Tatum. The white tank top he's wearing is hugging his long torso and perfectly showing off his long, muscular arms, covered with tattoos. His curls are pushed back away from his face, revealing his light green eyes when they train on her hiding in the corner.

"There you are!" he exclaims, making Blaire curse under her breath and come out into full view.

She glares at him as she walks across the room and he just grins at her.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, leaning against the table.

"Well, since you wouldn't talk to me I decided to take matters into my own hands," he answers, smiling so that his dimples poke out, making him seem less annoying and making it extremely hard for Blaire to stay angry with him.

"Well, you'll just have to come back later because we're just about to have dinner," Blaire says, getting up and walking over to the freezer.

Harry follows her with his eyes, the smile still present on his face.

"Or he can stay for dinner," Tatum suggests, making Blaire freeze in the action of removing a frozen pizza out of the freezer.

Blaire has found herself at a roadblock. She really doesn't want Harry to stay but at the same time, she does and now Tatum wants him to stay. How is she supposed to say no without having to explain to Tatum why and revealing that she went on a date with him? Hadn't she wanted to avoid a relationship in the first place? Why would she say yes and encourage Harry when later on she is just going to reject him again?

She glances over at him sitting so innocently on the stool beside Tatum who's silently begging with her mom to let him stay.

"Fine, you can stay but it's only pizza. Don't be expecting me to cook anything fancy for you now," Blaire huffs, stuffing the pizza into the oven and grabbing an extra plate for Harry.

She walks over to table, setting it down in front of him, where he sits at the head of the table, raising her eyebrows and receiving another small grin from him.

"Never in a million years," he replies with a cheeky smile appearing on his face, highlighted by deep dimples.

She mentally flips him off as she walks over to her seat beside Tatum and sits down.

"So, Blaire, how has work been?" Harry asks, setting his hands down on the table in front of him.

She finds herself thinking back to all the notes and constant reminders of Harry and feels annoyance flare in her chest. She decides, however, to act like she never even received them.

"It's great. In fact, I even got a raise," she answers, the smirk that usually finds its way onto Harry's lips falling onto hers.

"Funny, so did I," he counters, grinning and raising his eyebrows.

Blaire is still angry that Harry had gotten half the credit for the photos. If it wasn't for him, her raise would have been a lot more. An awkward silence follows, in which Harry falls into his steady stare again. Blaire feels uncomfortable in his green gaze so she turns to look at her hands, but can still feel his eyes on her. Thankfully, the timer on the stove sounds and she jumps up to get the pizza out. At least now she will have a reason to ignore him.

She grabs a knife and starts cutting the pizza into even slices. She uses a spatula and lifts up a piece and is about to carry it to the table when she nearly runs into Harry's chest.

"Let me help you with that," he says, placing the plates she was carrying down on the counter.

Blaire hesitates before scooping pizza onto each plate and watching Harry carry them back to the table. What just happened? She swears Harry's attitude changes are beginning to give her whiplash.

They eat in silence for a few minutes until Tatum breaks it with a giggle. Blaire glances over at her and she's laughing at Harry who's making funny faces at her across the table. Blaire can't seem to stop the small smile from creeping up at her from this little exchange. She continues smiling as Harry looks over at her, immediately stopping and dropping her gaze to her plate.

"Do you like my mommy?" Tatum asks all of a sudden, making Harry and Blaire both look at her in shock.

"Tatum!" Blaire scolds but Harry waves it off.

"Yes, she's very nice," he smiles, throwing a quick wink in Blaire's direction and making her insides flip.

"Do you like him?" she asks, turning to face Blaire.

Once again Blaire is speechless. She doesn't know how she feels about Harry and she definitely doesn't want him to know how she thinks she feels.

"He's alright," Blaire answers, quickly diving for her pizza but not before she sees Harry smile at her response.

Harry finishes his piece of pizza with a smug smile on his face and Blaire tries to ignore it. Tatum looks back and forth at the two of them, feeling the tension she created and knowing that it's a good kind.

"Well, I better head home," Harry sighs, leaning back in his chair.

"Thanks for dinner," he adds, nodding and smiling at Blaire.

He stands up from the chair and takes his plate, tucking it into the dishwasher. He smiles at Blaire one time before strolling towards the door and she gradually returns it.

"Mom!" Tatum hisses, making Blaire turn to stare at her. "Go say goodbye!"

"Alright," Blaire huffs, pushing her chair away from the table so that there's a screeching noise on the tile.

She walks over to where Harry's slipping on his brown boots and fixes the loose pieces of hair that have fallen in to her face.

"Miss me already?" he grunts, forcing his foot into the boot.

"No. Tatum reminded me that it's polite to walk your guest out," Blaire says, watching him stand up to his full, staggering height.

"She's a good kid," Harry says, glancing in the direction of the kitchen.

"Hmm," Blaire smiles.

She is debating whether or not to mention the cancer. Before she has a chance to say anything, Harry steps into her line of vision.

"She's lucky to have you," he says, absentmindedly reaching out and brushing his hand against Blaire's.

He watches how the goose bumps run up her arm and he grins, taking another step closer.

Blaire is staring at his feet, too afraid to look up at his face, knowing that she will find those alluring eyes waiting for her. He reaches out his hands and gently places them on either side of her waist. Now he's so close she can feel his breath fanning against her forehead and the presence of him warming up her entire body.

She sneaks a glance at his face and a slight smirk plays on his pink lips. Their eyes meet and she feels a slight jerk of excitement in her stomach, making it hard to look away. Without realizing it, he starts leaning down closer to her with his eyes trained on her lips and her senses seem to kick in. She places a hand on his chest and pushes him away. His eyes flutter up to her face, a brief look of hurt in them before he looks down at his hands.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Blaire whispers as his hands let go of her waist. "I haven't changed my mind."

"It's fine. I understand," Harry replies, scratching the back of his head and then sweeping his hair back. "I'll... see you around."

Blaire feels her heart drop like a rock in her chest. The look of disappoint in Harry's face is enough to make her want to throw her arms around his neck and hug him until she sees him smile again but she knows that she can't. She doesn't want to hurt him anymore.


	10. Chapter 10 | Wait For You

**It's true; everyone needs a reason to stay alive- someone who justifies your existence. Someone who loves you. Not beyond all reason. Just loves you. Even just shows an interest. Even someone who doesn't exist, or isn't yours. No, no! They don't even have to love you! They just have to be there to love! Target for your arrows. Magnetic pole to drag on your compass needle and stop it spinning and tell you where you're heading and... Someone to soak up all the yearning. That's what I think.**

**-Geraldine McCaughrean, _The White Darkness_**

 

Harry steps out of the shower and aggressively dries his hair with a towel, sweeping his wet fringe back and wrapping another towel loosely around his waist. He peeks in the mirror at his tired eyes and curses before strolling down the hallway to his bedroom.

He shuffles through his closet, pulling out a white t-shirt and black sweater. He pulls on a pair of boxers and squirms into a pair of black skinny jeans. His shirt is quickly slipped over his head, covering all of his tattoos except for the tiny cross on his hand, the bottom half of the anchor on his wrist and the tops of the two birds sitting just below his collarbones.

He's had an obsession with tattoos ever since the accident and now it's hard to find a part of his body that doesn't have ink on it. He grunts as he tugs the sweater over his head and picks up his phone from the desk beside his bed. He has one text message from one of the guys he regularly parties with asking if he wants to go out to a bar. He quickly types back telling him no, he has other plans for tonight.

Grabbing some sunglasses and his keys from the table beside the door, he steps out into the warm night air. The sky is hazed in a white light from the brightness of the city, covering the stars he knows would otherwise be spread out above him.

He unlocks the door to his Camaro and ducks down into the driver's seat. He takes a deep breath and slides his sunglasses onto his face, despite it being night and turns the engine on. It purrs to life, causing the bottom of the car to rumble and vibrate under him. He turns on the radio and blasts the song that comes on, not really hearing the words since his mind is somewhere else completely.

Her apartment comes into view around the corner a few minutes later and he pulls into the parking lot at the back. He turns off his car and locks the doors before making his way inside.

The lobby is lit with its usual dim lights making the old place seem abandoned and depressing. He walks up the wide staircase, taking off his sunglasses and folding them onto the front of his shirt. He immediately spots apartment number 311 and after ruffling his fingers through his hair, he knocks on the door.

The sound of quiet footsteps makes his heart leap in his chest and before he's prepared, she's standing in front of him with a look of surprise on her face. Harry takes in her outfit which consists of tight, white pants and a pretty, light blue blouse. Her long, brown hair is cascading down her chest and her brown eyes are beginning to narrow in anger as she steps outside the apartment and shuts the door quietly behind her.

"What do you want, Harry?" Blaire asks, still eyeing him suspiciously.

"I'm taking you out. Come on, grab your jacket," he answers quickly, placing a hand on her shoulder and gently pushing her back inside.

"Harry-" she protests.

"No, there's no time for that. We have to go now," he interrupts her, grabbing her jacket off the hook and thrusting it into her arms.

He freezes in his tracks when another pretty brunette comes around the corner, her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Who's this?" Harry asks, glancing down at Blaire, who's covering her face in her hands and shaking her head.

"My sister Kennedy," she mumbles into her hands. It seems that all of her worst nightmares are coming true.

"Hello," Harry waves at Kennedy and she only replies with a smile, still too shocked at the scene to speak. "If you don't mind, I'm taking your sister out on a spur of the moment date."

"I don't mind at all," Kennedy gushes and Blaire mentally kicks her.

Of course, she would find her voice in time to say that.

"But what about Tatum?" Blaire asks as Harry opens the door and begins dragging her out by the arm.

"Tate will be fine with me until you get back," Kennedy says, the smile still radiating on her cheeks.

"See, she'll be fine," Harry repeats, continuing to pull her along. "Let's go."

Blaire seems like she's going to protest again but decides against it, knowing that she's outnumbered anyway. She can't believe that Kennedy would just betray her like that. Can't she see that Blaire doesn't want to go? Kennedy is probably just thinking that Blaire needs another date. Besides, isn't she the one who wanted Blaire and Harry to go out together in the first place?

"Where are you taking me?" Blaire asks when they reach his car but she only receives a smirk in response.

"If I told you that it wouldn't be any fun, now would it?" Harry says, making Blaire roll her eyes.

They climb into his car and head off down towards the heart of the city. Blaire watches the buildings that go by, avoiding Harry's wandering gaze and wishing that she would've tried harder to get out of this.

"So, tell me. How did you and Tatum end up in the big city all alone?" Harry asks with his eyes still trained on the road, only glancing at Blaire when she turns to finally face him.

"Sorry, Harry. That's another story for another time," she replies, quoting him from the time she had asked him the same question.

Harry chuckles and says, "No really. There has to be some reason you're so protective of her."

Blaire looks at him questioningly and he shrugs. "I told you. You're easy to read."

"I don't know if I want to tell you that," she responds.

"Why not? Don't you trust me?" Harry asks, sneaking another glance at her from the corner of his eye.

"It's not that. It's just... personal," Blaire explains, playing with a thread on her pants.

"Well, you just tell me when you're ready then," Harry says and she catches his signature smirk as he turns to look out his window. "We're here."

Blaire bends forward so she can see where Harry's looking and glances, confused at the car lot across from them.

"Why are we here?" Blaire asks as Harry pulls up to the curb and turns the engine off.

"I told you already," he sighs. "We're here to have some fun."

Blaire watches him step out of the car and slip some coins into the parking meter. She doesn't like the sound of that. She remains sitting in the car, refusing to remove her seatbelt until Harry runs around to her side and opens the door.

"Are you coming?" he asks, bending down to her level.

"I'm not going in there," she refuses, crossing her arms and slouching in her seat.

Harry chuckles, his eyes sparkling with delight as she glares at him. "I could always make you," he growls, reaching out and unbuckling her seatbelt in one swift movement.

Blaire lets out a gasp and flinches away from him, causing him to burst out laughing. "I'm kidding, come on."

Blaire reluctantly rises out of her seat and steps outside, never taking her angry eyes off Harry. He closes the door behind her and begins to walk towards the tall, metal fence.

"How are we supposed to get in?" Blaire asks, examining the fence for a hole or place to climb over.

"Over here," Harry says and walks over to the far edge of the fence. He looks over his shoulder before bending down and lifting up a section of fence where the links have been cut off in the past.

He holds it up and gestures for Blaire to go through. She feels her pulse pick up and her hands begin to shake but she obeys, slipping through the opening and making it safely to the other side.

Harry quickly follows letting the fence fall back into place behind him. Blaire laughs nervously as he stands up straight again. Harry reaches up and places a hand on her shoulder, immediately steading her shaky hands but causing her pulse to double in speed.

"It'll be alright," he says and rubs her arm a bit before letting his hand drop.

"I know. I've never done anything like this before," Blaire breathes, looking around the lot at the hundreds of broken down and smashed cars.

"I can tell," Harry chuckles.

"So why are we here? Was that last date of dragging me all over the city too boring for you?" Blaire asks as Harry slips a small flashlight out of his back pocket and starts walking forward.

"No, I just like to spice things up a little. You know, keep things interesting. Or would you rather have me turn into the kind of sap that only knows how to take a girl out to dinner and a movie?" Harry asks, carefully avoiding a stray bumper and gently brushing against Blaire's arm.

The chill that runs through her causes her to grasp her arm against her side protectively and stare at him in the darkness. Even though she can hardly make out his face, his eyes still have that odd gleam in them. He chuckles and grabs her wrist, jerking her arm free and sliding his hand down to hers. He carefully slips his fingers between hers and encloses her tiny hand in his large one.

Blaire can't control the blush that reddens her cheeks and is glad for the shade of night because she knows that Harry would find this funny and innocent. The warmth of him makes all of the previous nerves melt away and she knows that he won't lead her into a situation they can't get out of. He gently squeezes her hand as they continue to walk along in the dark, between the bodies of cars and Blaire feels an eruption of butterflies in her stomach.

"It's right there, look," Harry says and Blaire follows his eyes to an old, rusty truck with red paint that's peeling off and faded from the sun.

"Come on," he says, tugging on her hand.

She starts moving forwards again as they walk over to the passenger side. Harry releases her hand and jerks open the door for her. Blaire immediately gets the feeling that something has been stolen from her and she finds herself craving for Harry's warm touch again.

She steps into the truck and gets onto the seat, waiting for Harry to close the door behind her. Instead he bends down until his face is only inches from hers. His green eyes never break contact with her brown ones, not that she wants them to. He leans in closer and she swears he's going to kiss her but he avoids it at the last second, moving his lips to her ear and whispering, "I'll be right back."

Then he straightens up and closes the door, running around to the other side and getting in. He relaxes back in the seat, a grin on his face as he looks at Blaire, making her squirm uncomfortably in his gaze.

"What are we doing in this old truck, Harry?" Blaire asks, making him smirk.

"You're going to tell me you're story and in return I'll tell you some of mine," Harry answers, twisting in his seat and wrapping one arm around the back of it.

"That's not a very fair deal," Blaire states, making him chuckle.

"Well, it's either that or nothing. You're choice," Harry replies, shrugging with a grin still plastered on his face.

He knows she hates the teasing but he can't help himself. He wants her to take the bait. And as much as she tells herself she doesn't want to know about him, she is secretly curious to find out why he is the way he is.

"Fine," Blaire sighs, pulling up her knees to her chest and resting her hands on them. "What do you want to know?"

"I want to know everything," Harry replies, "Start from the beginning. Like, where were you born? Do you have any other siblings? Stuff like that."

"Well, my life before I moved to the city wasn't all that exciting. While I was growing up it was just me and my sister Kennedy that you met back at the apartment. Then I met Jace in my freshman year and I lost every bit of common sense I ever had. And you've already figured out what happened there."

"Why'd he leave you?" Harry asks, shifting in his seat and leaning back against the door.

"He didn't, I left him. I mean, I sort of regretted it when Tatum was born."

"Didn't your parents help you out?"

"Well, they did when Tatum was younger but then I moved out here to get a job and they were so far away. I haven't seen them in so long," Blaire replies.

"Why? Do you not get along or something?" Harry questions.

"No. It's just... complicated," Blaire answers, not meeting Harry's eyes.

"You can tell me," Harry says, reaching out and placing his hand on Blaire's knee, "I promise I'm not going to go out and tell everyone your secrets."

Blaire gives him a weak smile. "It's not exactly a secret," she explains. "Well, not anymore."

"What is it?" Harry asks.

"It's Tatum, she's sick. She has Leukemia," Blaire breathes out, feeling a lump catch in her throat.

"Shit," Harry curses under his breath. "I'm sorry I asked. I didn't mean to..."

Harry's mumbled apology ceases as Blaire covers her face with her hands and tries to not to cry. Tentatively, he moves forwards and places a hand on her back, opening up his arms and letting her fall into them. The comforting warmth that encloses her makes Blaire press herself closer into him. She manages to hold the sobs back but still clutches onto Harry who rubs small circles into her back and rests his chin on the top of her head.

"It's fine. It's not your fault. I'm just under a lot of stress right now," Blaire explains, pulling out of his grip.

"Then let me take your mind off of it," Harry whispers.

Blaire looks up at him uneasily. What does he mean by that? Is she supposed to be able to read between some unseen lines and just allow him to do whatever he is hinting about?

She continues to stare at him, her heart pounding in her chest. She jerks slightly when his hand lifts up to brush through her hair and a smile plays on his lips. She finds herself staring at those lips, so pink and soft looking; she desperately wants to feel them against her own but is too afraid to move. Her eyes trail up to his eyes once more and before she knows what is happening, his lips are pressed gently to hers.

She gasps, surprised at how careful he is being and how wonderful he tastes. A tingly feeling spreads from her lips all the way down to her toes and she gradually begins to kiss him back. His lips work magic against hers while his hands lightly grasp the sides of her face. She moves her arms up around his neck and shuffles in closer to him until her chest is pressed into his. She can feel his heart thumping against her and pulls him even closer, running her hands over his back.

With a deep moan, he breaks the kiss, pulling away and locking eyes with Blaire. There it is again, that feeling that he gives her that leaves her feeling completely exposed. A weakness that gives him complete control over her emotions.

He licks his lips and then bites down on his bottom lip, trying to suppress a smile. Blaire stares into his eyes and swears she sees a flash in them as the lust begins to fade away.

Slowly and unwillingly, she retracts her arms from his neck and lets them fall to her side. He watches them fold on her lap and then looks back up again. The pressure of speaking presses down on her. What is she supposed to say after something like that? Is he going to say something? It doesn't appear that way since all he can seem to do is stare at her, speechless.

Harry clears his throat and places a hand on hers; running his fingers on top of her knuckles and making more goose bumps shoot up her arms.

"Do you want me to tell you something about me now?" he asks, still focusing on their hands with a shy grin present on his face.

Blaire stares at him in shock. Isn't he going to comment on what just happened? What if he didn't feel anything? Blaire feels her heart sink in shame. He doesn't feel the same way and now she is going to end up getting hurt like she's been dreading this whole time.

"Blaire?" Harry says, breaking her out of her trance. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, sorry. Go ahead," she says, stumbling over her words and looking at him momentarily stunned.

"I haven't dated anyone in a while," he begins. "I mean; I've gone out with plenty of girls, but not a serious sort of thing. Then when I saw you and I wanted you... desperately. I haven't felt that for someone in so long and to be honest with you, I never thought I'd feel like that again. And so I approached you and you pushed me away, not even giving me a chance. So I had no choice but to chase after you until you let me in, even just a little, so then I could prove to you that I'm serious about you."

"Harry," Blaire begins but she can't find the words to say how taken aback she is.

She had no idea that Harry feels this way about her. She thought from the beginning that he was just another of those guys that follows her everywhere and then once he learned how impossible it is to win her over, would just give up. But Harry is different, he can see something in Blaire that even she can't see in herself and she isn't ready to push him away yet.

"Blaire," Harry says, grabbing her hands in his and looking straight into her eyes, "I know you're incredibly stubborn about anything to do with me and that you're not ready to be in a relationship with anybody, let alone me. I understand that you have a lot going on right now and I respect that. I want you to know that I don't care how long it takes. I don't care if you never want me. I'll wait for you."

"You don't have to wait for me, Harry," Blaire responds. "I want you as badly as you want me."

Harry doesn't even have the chance to reply before Blaire grabs the back of his neck and pulls him back for another kiss, satisfying the eagerness in her lips that filled the space since their first meeting. Her hands move upwards into his curls, tracing through them and then tangling into them so that she can hold him in place better. She doesn't care about the doubts anymore or the nagging in the back of her mind that this isn't going to last. She only wants to feel the fire that comes along with his kiss and the touch of his skin that makes her feel alive.


	11. Chapter 11 | You Have Big Hands

**Don't make decisions when you're angry. Don't make promises when you're happy.**

**-Unknown**

 

Blaire is sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, trying to block out Kennedy's excited talking. If anyone is happier about Blaire finally having a boyfriend, she doesn't want to meet them in fear of having her head explode. Finally, it seems Kennedy's rant is over because she takes a seat in the chair across from Blaire and smiles at her.

"When's he coming?" she asks, wringing her hands excitedly.

"He should be here in an hour," Blaire answers, absentmindedly pushing her phone around the table in front of her.

"We have to get you ready then!" Kennedy exclaims, making Blaire roll her eyes.

"No we don't. We're staying in, remember?" Blaire sighs and Kennedy falls back in her seat with a small pout on.

"I just wanted to make you look nice for your... _boyfriend_ ," she says, a smile quickly appearing on her out-turned lips.

Blaire groans and considers face palming herself at her sister's need to say that word every chance she gets.

"Ken, can you please stop saying that word?" Blaire pleads with her hands running defeated down her face.

"Why? Would you rather have me call him your 'lover' or your 'boy toy'?" she counters, raising her eyebrows.

"Just call him by his name!" Blaire exclaims, looking at her sister in annoyance.

"Alright, alright. Well, you and _Harry_ better be safe tonight," she winks while she stands up from the table and grabs her phone out of her back pocket. "I'll probably be by in the morning."

"I'll see you then," Blaire replies, watching her walk down the hall towards the door.

Blaire remains sitting in her chair until she hears the door shut and then sighs loudly. She can't understand how one person can give her a headache in such a short period of time. She slowly stands up and walks down to Tatum's room.

She opens the door and peeks inside, spotting Tatum sitting up in her bed with a pillow propping herself up, gently stroking Hadley whose snuggled up beside her.

"How are you feeling?" Blaire asks her, slipping into the room.

"Better now but I'm still a little tired," she answers, attempting to stifle a yawn.

"Get some rest so you'll be ready for your tutoring session tomorrow," Blaire says, walking over and bending down at the head of her bed.

She stops to scratch Hadley's head before kissing Tatum's forehead. "Only one more week," she whispers and Tatum smiles up at her.

Blaire can't shake the anxious feeling that comes along with Tatum's upcoming bone marrow surgery. It's the first time in a long time that there is any sign of hope for her to recover and Blaire is hoping that it will work. Doctor Peters had already gone over the whole procedure with her and she is aware of the risks that they will be taking but she is willing to do anything to get her daughter back to normal.

"I'll be fine, mom. Everything's going to fine soon and then you won't have worry about me anymore," Tatum says, adjusting her pillows and pulling a blanket up to her chin.

"I'll always worry about you," Blaire whispers, giving her one more kiss on the forehead before turning out the light. "I'll be in my room if you need anything."

"Goodnight," Tatum says.

"Goodnight," Blaire replies, shutting the door and walking across the hall to her bedroom.

Blaire throws herself down on the bed, splaying her limbs out and sighing deeply. Harry's going to be there soon and she needs something to take her mind off it until he arrives. She picks up her phone and quickly sets it down again. She knows that she will only get bored of scrolling in a few minutes.

She reaches over to the shelf beside her bed and grabs a novel off it. She opens to the first page and starts to read. A few minutes later, she has read the same paragraph over and over, not taking in the words since her mind keeps trailing off to fantasies about Harry.

Eventually she gives up, deciding it will be better to just set her alarm clock for a half an hour and take a nap. She closes her eyes and once her brain calms down, she drifts off into a comfortable sleep.

The feeling of the bed sagging and a warm body wrapping around her pulls her out of her slumber. Harry's contented sigh reaches her ears before he gently pecks the tip of her nose with his lips. Blaire giggles and pushes him away before her eyes flutter open, revealing his emerald green ones only centimeters from hers, surrounded by little lines from laughing.

"Hello, beautiful," Harry says, causing Blaire's cheeks to heat up.

"Hi," she replies, trying to figure out a way to draw his attention away from her blush.

"What? I think you're beautiful," Harry repeats making her blush deeper and a girlish giggle slip from her lips.

"Harry," she scolds, covering her mouth with her hand.

"You're blushing because you know it's true," he smirks as she rolls over on her stomach and buries into her pillow, hiding her face from further criticism.

"No! I'm blushing because you're embarrassing me!" she exclaims and flings the pillow at him.

It hits him in the face and falls between them as he chuckles at her response. She hits him again, this time with her hand against his upper arm.

"Easy," Harry says, clutching where she smacked him and faking pain.

She smiles at him and he returns it, tilting his head to the side and looking at her intently. She melts under his gaze, her former wall of resistance collapsing and a wave of butterflies bumping against her stomach. She reaches out and twirls a lock of his hair around her finger.

"How was your day?" Harry asks, readjusting his position so that he is more comfortable.

"It was alright. Parker was easy on me even though I was five minutes late and I got to spend the afternoon with Kennedy at the mall," Blaire answers, letting go of his hair and watching it spring back into the rest of his curls.

"How's Tatum doing?" Harry asks, grabbing Blaire's hand and lacing his fingers between hers before meeting her eyes again.

"Fine. She's doing fine," Blaire replies, biting her lip and looking down at their hands.

"I'll come with you to her surgery, if you want," Harry offers.

"No," Blaire answers, still not making eye contact with him. "Kennedy's coming with me already and I don't think I want anyone else there."

"Okay," Harry says, looking down at their hands too and watching Blaire trace over the large ring on his finger.

A silence engulfs them and Harry knows that she's thinking about Tatum. He wishes there was some way that he could get her to talk about it without her putting up her defenses and shutting him out completely.

His eyes move up to her face and he watches a small smile appear on her lips. "You have big hands," she comments, tracing her finger from his knuckles to his fingertips.

He smirks and pulls his hand away from hers, placing it over her face instead. "Perfect fit," he comments at how it covers her entire face.

Her muffled complaints make him chuckle and he removes it, revealing her annoyed expression underneath.

"Hands off," she warns and he smiles cheekily.

"You know you love it though," he says, carefully laying his hand down on her arm and running his fingers lightly over her skin.

He then proceeds to move his hand to the small of her back, pulling her abruptly against his torso. Her hands automatically reach out to grasp onto the thin, black fabric of the t-shirt that's hugging his chest, trying to keep herself grounded.

She locks her eyes onto his, so close to him that she can feel his sweet, hot breath fanning out onto her face in small pants. He sucks his bottom lip between his teeth as the tension mounts between them. Blaire's heart is thumping in her chest and she can feel the yearning building through her, bursting to be satisfied by his inviting lips.

His lip pops out of his mouth and hangs open, leaving his mouth slightly parted and his plump, pink lips looking very enticing. Blaire can't take it anymore and closes the space between them, moaning contently when his warm lips mold against hers. The kiss is short lived but full of longing and confused feelings.

Blaire feels disappointed when his lips part from hers so soon and falls back onto the bed, resting her head on her pillow. Harry hums happily and copies her, lying onto his back with a smile stretched out on his lips, revealing his pearly white teeth.

"Come here," he says and pats his chest.

Blaire shuffles over to him and rests her head just under his collarbone. Harry lifts his hands up and plays with her hair as she picks up her book from before and contently reads the first few chapters.

"I should probably go," Harry says, breaking the silence and making Blaire glance at her clock.

She is surprised to see that two hours have already passed. She sits up on the bed and sets down her book on the pillow, watching Harry get up and stretch so that his shirt pulls up, revealing his toned stomach and the two fern tattoos that are situated just above his hips.

He leans over to Blaire whose sitting crossed legged on the blankets and smiles before pressing his lips onto hers in a quick goodnight kiss. She holds onto the back of his neck as he kisses her, hoping to keep him there as long as possible. He breaks away with a naughty smirk on his lips, leaving Blaire sitting there, breathless.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispers, backing away slowly, taking his teasing lips with him. He turns and stands up straight, heading for the door.

"Wait!" Blaire exclaims, jumping up from the bed. "Let me walk you out."

Harry's smile widens and he reaches out a hand to her. She takes it in hers as he walks her to the front door. When they get there, she stands in front of him as he smiles down at her, his towering figure making her feel a little nervous. He takes a step towards her, placing both of his hands on her waist and closing the space between them in one more stride. His face hovers over hers, his eyes focused on her lips.

In one swift movement, he moves her backwards so that her back is pressed against the wall and attacks her lips with his, cutting off the gasp that slips from hers. Once she realizes what's happening, she kisses him back and clutches the nape of his neck to pull him down closer to her. He places one hand on the wall next to her face and uses the other one to cup her cheek. She can feel his tongue grazing across her bottom lip and gradually opens her mouth. His tongue slips inside and immediately finds hers, wrapping around it and causing an eruption of joy in her stomach.

A few moments later, he pulls away from her and moves his lips down to the spot just below her jaw. She moans quietly through her heavy breathing and grasps onto the back of Harry's shirt. He leaves a trail of slow kisses all the way down to her collarbone before returning to her lips.

He kisses her hard but slowly, a low moan vibrating from his chest and against her lips. She feels such a wave of emotion that her knees threaten to give out beneath her. Harry finally breaks away from her, his breathing coming out in deep pants and his lips slightly swollen, making them look even more kissable.

Blaire stares deep into his eyes, every trace of fear gone from her. She can't believe that such a gorgeous man could belong to her. The dark hallway casts a shadow on his face but not in his eyes, which have never been brighter.

"Goodnight, sweetheart" he whispers, still cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Goodnight," she breathes, still blown away by what just happened as he winks and leaves her with the taste of him still lingering on her lips.

~

Blaire adjusts her position on her bed, rolling over onto her stomach and crossing her ankles above her head. The sun is beating through the cracks in the black blinds that are pulled down over her window. It's the first warm day in a long time and Blaire is enjoying the serenity of the endless blue sky as she reads the last few chapters of her mystery novel _Under the Tracks_ and sips on a blue mug full of hot tea. Tatum is in the kitchen with her tutor Wendy, a tiny, spunky red head that is looking after her education while she is unable to attend school.

Blaire turns the page of her book, just getting into the climax of the story when her phone buzzes beside her. She turns the book over after finishing the sentence and lays it down on the bed, glancing at her phone.

The screen lights up with the words 'incoming call' blinking in the middle. She picks it up to see whose calling and her eyes scan over the words 'unknown number'. Her finger hovers over the red end call button before she plucks up the courage and presses answer.

"Hello..." she says, awaiting the mystery caller's voice.

There's no answer.

"Hello," she repeats.

Again, no one replies.

She can hear a faint buzzing sound on the other line and decides that it is just someone playing games with her. She hangs up the phone and throws it down into a pile of pillows, picking up her book and resuming from where she left off.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzes again. When she glances over at it, she realizes it's a text message, once again from an unknown number. The words jump out at her, making her eyes dart immediately to her bedroom door.

_I'm waiting at your door. I need to talk to you._

Blaire's heart thunders against her ribcage and her lips become dry as she pulls herself off the bed and pads silently towards the door. When she opens it, she can hear Wendy and Tatum discussing a math problem they're working on and she slowly walks towards their voices.

She pauses in the kitchen. There is no knock on the door or any other sign that anyone is on the other side. Maybe someone had just gotten the wrong number and that's why they wouldn't answer. But then why would they text her after they knew they had the wrong person?

Her phone vibrates in her back pocket and she reaches for it with slightly shaking hands. The words make her eyes widen.

_I'm waiting, Blaire._

The text confirms that the person definitely knows who they are talking to. She glances over at Tatum one more time, hoping that whoever it is won't harm them. Walking over to the door, she runs her hand nervously through her hair. She opens it and the face that's revealed smiling down at her makes her heart jolt in her chest.

"Jace?" she asks, hardly able to find her voice.

"Blaire," he acknowledges, making her shiver.

He is just as she remembers him. A tall man with wide shoulders and thick arms that are strong but not extremely muscular. His dark hair is still cut short and his brown eyes are gleaming down at her underneath his thick eyebrows. His cocky smile is what really sets her heart racing, the way his thin lips pull back and to reveal extremely white teeth. He's wearing a tight, white shirt, rolled up at his elbows and a pair of blue jeans. He looks as good as he did in high school, if not better.

"Why are you here?" Blaire asks, trying to make her voice sound assertive and big.

"I came to see my daughter," he answers, peeking around her body and trying to see where Tatum is.

Blaire blocks his view, closing the door and standing up to her full height which is only to his shoulders. She doesn't know how he found out where they lived but she doesn't have time to worry about it now.

"I think you need to go," Blaire orders and Jace chuckles deeply.

"I think you're mistaken. I'm not going anywhere until I see Tatum," he repeats, trying to get around her to open the door.

"She doesn't want to see you. Besides, even if she did, you know you can't see her," Blaire says, standing with her back against the knob.

He could have moved her in an instant if he wanted to but he remains where he is standing, smirking down at her.

"You think some silly little restraining order is going to keep me from seeing my daughter?" he asks, tauntingly.

"Yes," Blaire answers and he laughs before pushing her out the way and jerking the door open.

He storms into the apartment without a second glance at Blaire who is clutching the wall and slowly pulling her phone out of her pocket. She turns it on and scrolls through her contacts; picking out the first name she sees and pressing dial. They pick up on the second ring and Blaire breathes out in relief.

"Hello?" a raspy voice answers.

"Harry?" Blaire says, her voice cracking. "I need your help. Jace is here and I think he's going to try and take Tatum. I can't let that happen. You have to come here. Please, Harry, I'm scared."

"I'm on my way," he says briefly before hanging up and leaving Blaire in a state of panic as she turns and walks into the apartment, ready to do whatever it takes to keep things together until Harry gets there.


	12. Chapter 12 | Terrified

**I didn't want to wake up. I was having a much better time asleep. And that's really sad. It was almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare you're so relieved. I woke up into a nightmare.**

**-Ned Vizzini**

 

Time seems to freeze in Blaire's mind as Jace takes a seat across from Tatum at the table. Tatum looks at him curiously and then at Blaire. Wendy doesn't seem to sense any tension because she continues marking Tatum's work as if no one has appeared in front of her.

"Excuse me," Jace says and Wendy stops writing and looks up, noticing him for the first time.

Her eyes travel up and down his chest, landing on his face and brightening ten times more at the sight. "I need to have a talk with my family so you're dismissed for the rest of the day."

Wendy nods and giggles, "Alright," before collecting her books and standing. With a flip of her hair and one more smile, she struts out of the room and towards the door. If only Kennedy were here right now, Blaire thinks, she wouldn't let anyone get pushed around like this by Jace.

Blaire takes the opportunity to walk over and stand behind Tatum's chair with a hand on her shoulder. She looks up at her mom with concerned eyes and whispers, "Who is he?"

"No one important," Blaire murmurs, stroking her shoulder.

"No one important!" Jace exclaims. "I'm her fucking father!"

Tatum flinches at his outburst and Blaire comes very close to reaching out across the table and slapping him.

"You are?" Tatum asks, her eyes widening as she peeks out from behind Blaire's elbow.

"Yes," he replies, breathing out to calm himself down. "I'm your daddy, Tatum."

"Why are you here? Why have you never come before?" Tatum asks, slowly releasing her grip on Blaire's arm and coming out of hiding.

"That's what I came to talk to you about," he explains. "Tatum, how would you like to come and live with me for a little while?"

"No," she replies, shaking her head.

"You would have a completely different life. A better life than your mom could ever give you," he bargains but she still shakes her head.

Blaire is completely silent through this exchange. She's too nervous to say something wrong and make Jace act hastily against her.

"I could give you more than enough money for your cancer treatments," he adds and Blaire's eyes widen.

"How do you know about that?" she exclaims, holding Tatum closer to her.

"I told you. I'll know what I want to know," he repeats, a sly smile pulling on his lips. "Besides, you never thought about telling me that our daughter was sick, so how do you think I feel?"

"It's none of your business what goes on in our lives anymore! You made that clear the day she was born!" Blaire yells.

"You wouldn't have let me near her even if I wanted to!" he roars, standing up from the table with so much force that the chair goes flying behind him, falling with a crash on the floor.

His breathing comes out heavily through his nose and he paces back and forth, clenching his fists, absolutely seething with anger.

The one reason Blaire was always terrified of him was his extremely short temper. If his size wasn't enough to scare someone, it was his ability to not be able to control it and the damage it could cause. Too many times she'd witnessed him throw furniture and kick holes through walls.

Blaire grabs Tatum by the arm and lifts her out of the chair. She takes the opportunity to send her out of the room while Jace is still distracted by anger.

"Fuck! I just wanted to get to know my daughter but you were so protective! So naïve! Don't you know what I'm capable of!" he shouts, making Blaire flinch and put even more distance between them.

She glances nervously at the door, hoping that Harry will come bursting through it any minute.

"Jace, please calm down," she says, quietly but knows it's a lost attempt when the fire rages in his eyes again.

"Calm down! No! I'm not going to fucking calm down until I get what I came for!" he argues.

Jace seems to notice that something is missing because he freezes and his eyes dart around the room. "Where is she?"

Blaire hesitates in her place while he storms off into the living room, throwing aside furniture and causing a pile of books to go toppling to the floor from the counter. She considers chasing after him but can't seem to move. It was like before, whenever he would yell at her she would freeze up, unable to think properly or defend herself.

She watches motionless as he strides back into the room and right up to her.

"Where is she?" he demands, hovering over her, intimidatingly close to her face.

When Blaire doesn't answer him, it just sparks the anger even more. She watches as his face turns a deeper shade of red and his nostrils flare.

"Tell me you bitch!" he explodes, spatting in her face due to his closeness.

Blaire flinches away and shakes her head in response. She isn't going to give up Tatum's whereabouts no matter what happens even though she doesn't exactly know where she is hiding herself.

A sharp smack takes her breath away as Jace's hand makes contact with her cheek. She falls to the floor, clutching her throbbing, red cheek in her hand as tears slip out of the corners of her eyes.

She lets out a gasp of air that she was holding in as Jace descends on her again. She curls up into a ball as he reaches down for her, grasping her arm in his tight hold and yanking her across the floor in an attempt to get her to stand up. Blaire refuses to let go of her knees, trying to keep all of the most vital places protected.

"Get up!" he demands, pulling on her arm again and causing her to hit her head on the edge of the counter.

Stars burst before her eyes and she releases her knees to hold her tender head in her hands. Jace takes the opportunity to pull her to her feet and press her against the counter, holding her in place with his pelvis. Blaire gasps again and lets go of her head, using all her remaining strength to push as hard as she can against his chest but he won't budge.

The sight of the door flying open in the corner of her eye causes her to move her attention. Jace notices it too and turns away from her to see who is interrupting. Harry comes rushing into the room, his face flushed from running and takes in the sight in front of him.

His eyes darken the way Blaire saw them darken at the restaurant when the waiter hit on her and she immediately knows that she's safe. Harry makes it to them in a few long strides and places his hands on Jace's chest, pushing him backwards and setting her free to run into the far corner and watch the fight unfold.

Harry raises his clenched fist to Jace's nose and a crunch fills the room, followed by Jace's cursing and wiping at the stream of red sliding down over his chin and to the floor. Harry takes the opportunity while Jace's hands are raised to start peppering his stomach with quick blows. Jace doubles over, the breath almost knocked out of him, unable to fight back.

He collapses onto his knees at Harry's feet and mumbles something about having mercy. Harry backs off panting heavily and rubbing his blood-stained knuckles. He continues backing up, never taking his eyes off the crumpled body on the floor until he reaches Blaire.

"Give me your phone," he orders, holding out his hand.

"No," Blaire says. "You can't call the cops on him. If they come here and see him like this, you'll get in trouble too."

"Don't worry about me," he replies. "I need to make sure he's somewhere where he can't hurt you anymore."

"No," she protests as he forcefully takes her phone out of her pocket. "Harry, I'll be fine as long as I have you!" Harry stops in his tracks and turns to face her. "He's not going to come anywhere near me as long as you're here. He'll be terrified of you now."

She watches as he takes a deep breath and regretfully sets the phone down on the counter. "Fine. But if he comes anywhere near you again, I'm not hesitating to have him put away."

Blaire feels a wave of relief wash over her. She knows deep down something that Harry doesn't about Jace. Jace is the type of guy who will hunt someone down to the ends of the Earth just to get revenge and she doesn't want Harry getting hurt.

"Where's Tatum?" Blaire asks suddenly, remembering that her daughter took off before any of this happened.

"She's just next door. I found her crying in the lobby so I brought her to Charlie's and told her to stay put until one of us came to get her," Harry answers, gesturing towards next door.

Blaire doesn't have time to say a word as she rushes next door to comfort her daughter. Harry stays behind to keep an eye on Jace, watching her tiny figure disappear out of sight.

"Tatum!" Blaire exclaims when she bursts through the door and sees her daughter sitting beside Charlie on the couch.

"Mom!" Tatum yells and runs over to jump into her mother's arms.

Blaire holds onto her for a few minutes, not needing to say anything, just enjoying the feeling of knowing there is no danger now.

"Are you okay?" Blaire asks, setting her down and placing both hands on her tiny shoulders.

"Yeah, Harry took care of me, Mom. He told me to come here and promised he'd protect you for me," she replies, giving Blaire a small smile.

"I know he did," Blaire says, smiling back and feeling an immense surge of gratitude run through her veins.

"Why don't you come sit down?" Charlie suggests, patting the couch beside him. "You're welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Thank you," Blaire says and sits down on the couch with Tatum on her lap.

She holds her close to her chest, wanting to explain to her what had happened and why but not wanting to traumatize her any further.

Charlie picks up the remote and turns on his tiny, old television. Blaire watches the screen light up and a baseball game come on. She quickly averts her attention to the door, remembering that she left Harry at her apartment and her heart jumps at the thought that he might call the cops now that she isn't there to stop him.

He wouldn't do that, she reassures herself, he told her he wouldn't. The terrible part about it is that she doesn't know him well enough yet to know if he will go back on his word or not.

A few minutes later, the door opens and Harry comes waltzing through. His hands are swaying at his sides, completely blood free but still red looking and clenched. His grim expression lights up when he sees Tatum and she runs into his arms. He picks her up and lets her snuggle her head into the crook of his neck. Blaire's eyes meet his and he silently reassures her with a quick nod of his head.

When he puts Tatum down, she runs over to the couch and sits down between Blaire and Charlie. Blaire stands up and walks over to Harry. He opens his arms and she falls into them, pressing her face against his chest. He leans down and presses his lips to the top of her head. She should be afraid of him after seeing what he was capable of doing when he gets angry but it is nothing compared to when Jace gets angry. She feels more attached and protected by him now than ever before.

"Where's Jace?" Blaire asks, silently hoping Harry didn't leave him alone in her apartment.

"He's gone," Harry whispers against her hair, sending chills down her spine.

"Where?" Blaire asks, looking up at him and meeting his gentle, green eyes.

"Don't worry about that. I took care of it," Harry says lowly, pulling out of her hold and sliding a hand down to her waist.

Blaire didn't care where Jace was. As long as he doesn't hurt her or anyone she cares about, she will feel like it isn't her fault he returned in the first place.

~

"Want to play a game?" Harry asks Tatum after he turns off the golf tournament on TV he was watching.

"Like what?" she answers, setting down the pencil she was drawing with.

"It's kind of different. Something I used to play with my friends all the time when we were supposed to be doing our homework," he smiles, sliding down from the couch and stuffing himself behind the coffee table beside her. "It's called Paper in the Bucket."

"Okay. How do you play?" she says, sitting up eagerly.

"Well, you need some paper and something to throw it into," Harry explains, scanning around the room. "That garbage can will work. All you do is crumple the paper into a ball and set it down and then..."

Tatum watches him intently as he flicks a wad of paper with his finger and it sails into the air, missing the basket by a few inches. Tatum smiles and grabs a piece of scrap paper from her notebook. She follows Harry's instructions and flicks the paper, watching it fly a few inches and fall to the floor.

Harry chuckles and moves closer to her, preparing more paper.

"Let me give you some tips," he offers and Tatum nods. "Place your hand just beneath the surface of the table so that there's a bit of an angle and make sure your fingers are pointed in the direction you want it to go."

Tatum's tiny hand replaces his own as she uses his advice and gets even closer to the bin.

"Nice one," Harry praises. "Try it again."

They spend the next few minutes attempting to sink their paper and never actually getting it into the basket. Even Harry has trouble, admitting he is just a little rusty.

Harry looks up at the window in front of them and notices that the sun is finally beginning to set behind the tall buildings and feels excitement jump in his chest. Blaire will be home soon.

"I have an idea," Tatum says, making Harry's eyes dart to her. "Why don't we play What Do You Want To Do Before You Die?"

"Um," Harry hums, slightly taken aback by her suggestion and wondering what this idea might be leading up to.

"Alright," he answers, deciding there is no harm in a game.

"Okay. You go first. What's one thing you want to do before you die?" Tatum asks, sitting up on her knees.

Harry thinks for a few seconds. What is one thing he wants to do before his time is up? This game is proving to be more difficult than he first thought.

"Come on, there has to be something," Tatum presses, "What about getting married, winning the lottery..."

"Well, to be honest with you, I've always wanted to travel more. Nowhere specific, really. Just somewhere away from here," Harry answers.

"Why don't you then?" Tatum asks, scanning him with her big brown eyes that are brimming with curiosity.

"It's not the right time," he answers, looking down at his intertwined hands. "Maybe when I'm retired and have less to worry about."

"You should do it now. You never know when something could come along that would keep you from doing the things you want," Tatum says and Harry can't help but feel pity for her.

Someone so young shouldn't have the opportunity to live their life snatched away from them before they even have a chance to live it.

"I want to do lots of things before I die," she says, interrupting his thoughts.

"Like what?" he asks, secretly hoping he could help her to fulfill her wishes.

"Like, change someone's life and see my mom happy," she answers.

Harry lets out a long breath of air. Of course, she would have some virtually unattainable wishes like those. Maybe it would have been easier in a time that isn't now, filled with people that aren't so afraid of change and admitting their problems that they would rather slither away and avoid human interaction all together.

"Those are some big wishes," Harry comments making Tatum smile and nod.

"I have smaller ones, too," Tatum adds before continuing. "I want to read all the books in my bedroom, spend a whole day dancing and laughing to my favorite songs with my friends, learn how to play an instrument, the list goes on and on."

"Now those are more reasonable," Harry says. "You know what? I could teach you guitar if you want."

"Really?" Tatum asks, her eyes lighting up.

"Sure. I have one back at my place. Maybe I could bring it by tomorrow," Harry smiles.

Their attention turns to the front door when they hear it open and close. Blaire walks into the living room, her face looking tired and slightly flustered and her arms sporting several black bags that she sets down in the hallway.

'How was it?" Harry asks, trying not to laugh when she rolls her eyes.

"Well, you know Kennedy," Blaire says, kicking off her shoes and grabbing a drink from the fridge. "She insisted on using her 'model logic' to purchase me a whole new wardrobe. How did your afternoon go?"

"It was fun! Harry taught me how to play one of the games he used to play when he was a kid!" Tatum exclaims, running over to hug Blaire.

She looks down at Harry with a shocked smile on her face. It never fails to surprise her how differently he acts when he is with Tatum compared to when he is with her. It's like he is a completely separate person from the one she was partnered up with a few weeks ago, every trace of the rude part of him disappearing completely and a softer side taking its place. He's almost like a turtle coming out of his tough shell and revealing the sensitive creature underneath.

Tatum looks from Blaire to Harry, absolutely glowing with happiness and excitement. Blaire smiles too. She can't believe how quickly Tatum has bounced back from her latest cancer attack. But she knows that just because she seems healthy, it doesn't mean the cancer has retreated at all. In fact, Tatum is still in huge danger at this stage and Blaire regrets every moment she is forced to leave her in someone else's hands.

"Can I get a picture of you guys?" Blaire asks them and Harry nods.

She walks into her bedroom to retrieve her camera and sets the lighting as she walks back down the hall. This has been a habit of hers ever since Tatum was born. She would take thousands of pictures of her whenever Tatum was happy because it seemed that so often Blaire was not.

She enters the room to find Harry and Tatum laughing. She smiles as she watches Harry throw his head back, his dimples carved deep into his cheeks as a loud laugh rings from his mouth. She feels butterflies tickle her stomach at the sound and bites her lip to keep herself from joining in.

She picks up her camera and switches the mode to video, secretly taping the moment. Harry notices her standing there and smiles, gesturing for her to come over and sit beside him. She walks over and sits down next to him, immediately ducking as his arm slings over her shoulder. She takes in the smell of his cologne mixed with the sweet smell of his shampoo that is still lingering on his curls.

"Smile, Blaire," Harry says as he grabs the camera from Blaire.

"Hey!" she exclaims and grasps for it but he holds it out of her reach, snapping a picture of her struggling for it. "Stop it!"

Harry just chuckles and takes another, before playfully sticking out his tongue at her. She ignores him and crosses her arms angrily across her chest. Harry lowers the camera to his knee and puts his face in front of hers, tickling her nose with his and trying to make her smile. She takes the opportunity to grab the camera from under his elbow and jumps up from the floor, running across the room. She notices how Harry smirks at her and she smiles back, triumphantly.

She lifts the camera to her face and takes a few pictures of Tatum who isn't the slightest bit disgusted by the affection she just witnessed but instead is smiling even bigger than before. Blaire flips back through the photos she took of Tatum and is just about to reach the pictures Harry took when she hears a crash and sees Harry stand up and run towards the place Tatum was standing.

She slowly lowers the camera and finds her daughter lying on the floor, twitching and gasping as Harry shakes her gently and frantically calls out her name with no reply.


	13. Chapter 13 | Terminal

**We hold onto hope, and hope robs us of the present moment.**

**-Pema Chodron**

 

The shock of what Doctor Peters had said still hasn't lifted three hours later. Blaire is sitting at the head of Tatum's bed and stroking her hair as she sleeps. The moment would seem normal if it wasn't for the mass of tubes stuck in her arms and nose and the pale, white color that covers her body, making her look like a ghost.

Blaire glances at the clock on the wall and then at the door which Harry is still sitting outside of, waiting patiently for the nurses to allow him inside. The clock reads nine o'clock which means he has been sitting out there for four hours, refusing the nurses suggestions of moving him to the waiting area downstairs, insisting that he has to stay out there in case Blaire needs him.

It's difficult to believe that only four hours ago everything had seemed fine, almost like the sickness had left Tatum completely. Blaire runs her fingers through her own hair and feels her lip tremble as she stares at her daughter who is now fighting for her life.

She hadn't needed the doctor and nurse to confirm for her what she knew was a seizure when the ambulance had arrived at her apartment. It didn't surprise her when Doctor Peters announced that Tatum would no longer be able to undergo her bone marrow surgery since she isn't stable enough. But Blaire did move into a state of shock when he told her that the cancer had spread to Tatum's brain and that she was newly diagnosed as terminal.

"My little baby," Blaire sobs quietly, stroking Tatum's hair again. "My poor little baby."

Blaire lets her head fall to the mattress and she shakes with sobs. The darkness of the room seems to engulf her and add to the depressing mood, making it even harder to pull out of her tears. She wants Harry to be there to tell her comforting words and hold her close but it's only family allowed inside for now and Kennedy is currently on a train coming back from their parent's house.

She continues to cry until her eyes are dried out and puffy and feel too heavy to keep open. She slowly crawls up into the bed and wraps her arms around her daughter, trying desperately not to fall asleep in the fear of Tatum waking up alone.

"Are you sure you don't want to go down to the waiting room? You could have a nap on the couch, maybe pass the time?" a passing nurse asks the sulking figure of Harry.

He lifts his head up and shakes it before looking down at the white tile floor again. The nurse smiles sympathetically at him and continues on her way. The blinding fluorescent lights are starting to give him a headache, or maybe it's just the impatience he feels towards the nurses who won't let him inside.

He sighs loudly and tries to ignore the persistent pounding in the front of his head. At least the doctor was kind enough to tell him what's going on, not that it made him feel any better knowing that there is a huge chance Tatum won't make it through.

He thinks about how only a few hours ago, the two of them were laughing and having fun and now they may never have that chance again. It makes a surge of fury rush through him, causing his arms to flex and his fists to clench. He feels an extreme anger at the world for not being able to find a cure for cancer. At the doctors and nurses for seeming so hopeless. For having been dragged into this situation in the first place.

He shoots up from his chair, pacing back and forth, pulling on the ends of his hair and clenching his teeth together.

"It's not fucking fair!" he explodes, kicking the chair over and slamming his fists against the wall.

A nurse down the hall looks at him with a terrified expression on her face before silently turning and walking out of sight. Harry huffs and feels the sudden anger retreating, replaced by a feeling of regret and sadness. He picks up the chair and sits down again, resuming his staring at the floor.

~

A few days later, Tatum has regained enough strength to stand by herself and even take a few steps. Harry has been helping a lot in assisting her around the hospital in a wheelchair and is now assisting her with walking. Kennedy has also been spending as much time as she can with Tatum and Blaire, although it's difficult since she is scheduled for several modeling jobs that could eventually lead up to a commercial deal which Blaire wouldn't allow her to turn down.

Blaire is having the hardest time out of all of them. She struggles with the fact that her daughter has to learn everything over again, leaving her with a feeling of helplessness. The only good thing that has come out of this situation so far is that the seizure never affected Tatum's memory. As soon as she woke up, she recognized Blaire and Kennedy's faces. She even recognized Doctor Peters when he arrived, which he assured Blaire was a good sign.

Blaire watches silently from her spot on the end of Tatum's bed as Harry places his hands under Tatum's arms and allows her to lift herself up. Tatum's legs shake under her weight at first but then she finds her footing and takes a step. They make it halfway across the room when an object catches Blaire's eye. It's a tiny remote controlled car, steering hopelessly into the wall of their room and it appears to be ownerless.

The sound of a child's voice gets louder as a little boy comes barreling through the door. He has a big smile on his face and a messy, mop of blond hair on his head, flopping into his eyes as he searches for the car. He doesn't appear any older than four or five and Blaire can't seem to avert her eyes from the large white scar on his leg.

"I found you!" he exclaims, picking up his car and turning it around to face the doorway.

"Hello," Tatum says, waving at him from the spot her and Harry have stopped.

The boy looks at her and smiles, waving back. "Hi," he says, smiling and revealing a mouth with several teeth missing. "I'm Kade."

"I'm Tatum," she says, smiling back. "This is my mom and Harry."

She points to the both of them and Kade nods, biting his lip with his few front teeth.

"Kade!" a voice from outside the room calls, followed by the sound of clicking heels. "There you are!" A woman in her late twenties appears in the doorway, her brown hair is pulled back in a bun and her blue eyes are filled with relief.

"Mommy! I got my car!" he yells at her, running over to her and then around her in circles. She laughs and rolls her eyes.

"Hello," she says to Blaire. "I see you've met my bundle of energy."

Blaire nods and laughs too as Kade continues to zoom around the room.

"I'm Trinity," she greets, holding out her hand for Blaire to shake.

"I'm Blaire," she replies, smiling at Trinity.

"Harry," Harry says when she looks at him.

"It's to meet you," Trinity says. "How long have you been here for?"

"Four days," Blaire answers. "You?"

"A month tomorrow," she says, sighing with her hands on her hips.

"Wow," Blaire says, looking warily at Harry.

She hopes they won't have to be stuck in this depressing place for that long. "What does he have?"

"Leukemia," she says as if she tells people about it in everyday conversation.

Blaire feels her heart rise in her throat. She thought that she had it bad. Kade is so much younger than Tatum and all this time she's been complaining about how young Tatum is. If Trinity hadn't told her, Blaire would have never guessed that Kade was even sick. He's the complete opposite of Tatum even though they have the same type of cancer.

"My daughter Tatum has Leukemia, too," Blaire says and Trinity's eyes turn to look at Tatum getting helped onto her bed by Harry.

"For how long?" Trinity asks, her eyes filling with sympathy and understanding.

"Just over a year," Blaire replies, averting her eyes to look down at the floor.

"It's draining. I know," Trinity sighs, running a hand down the side of her face.

Blaire only just notices how tired she looks now that she has stepped into the light. Deep, dark circles make caverns beneath her eyes and her skin looks pale and worn, like she is a lot older than she first appeared. Blaire doesn't even want to think about how worn out she looks, not being able sleep for more than a couple hours since they arrived and being in a constant state of worry that has brought a state of depression down on her again.

Even Harry had been struggling to bring her out of her mood and she had been angry with him again. Though, they were careful to never fight around Tatum since Blaire didn't want her to see that they were beginning to fall apart at the seams. That was the whole reason she never wanted a relationship with everything that was going on. Harry had never seen the way she slipped into a quiet bitterness the first time Tatum was hospitalized so he wasn't prepared for her to shut down on him.

"Well, we better get going. Kade has an appointment at three and he needs to rest up," Trinity explains and starts rallying Kade towards the door.

"Okay," Blaire answers, still caught up in her thoughts.

"Bye, Tater!" Kade calls and waves at Tatum with a wide smile on his face.

Tatum giggles at how he got her name wrong and waves back. Kade's tiny head bounces away around the corner, chasing his car back to his room which Blaire had been informed is just down the hall. Trinity chases after him, close on his heels as she disappears around the corner.

Almost as soon as they leave, Kennedy comes bustling through the door with a purple, plush bunny clutched in her arms.

"Hi everybody," she greets as she lets her purse slide off her arm and onto the floor. "Look what I brought."

Tatum smiles and accepts Kennedy's hug and gift with open arms.

"I missed you," Tatum says, holding onto Kennedy's hand and swinging it side to side.

Kennedy has just finished completing her second commercial shoot and this is the first time she's been to visit in a week.

"I missed you more, Tate," Kennedy smiles, gripping her hands tighter and pulling her to her feet.

Blaire gasps and jumps up to catch her when she falls but she never does.

"Tatum, you're standing!" Blaire exclaims and runs the rest of the way to pull her daughter into a hug.

Harry stands against the wall, smiling down at the three of them, obviously satisfied with all the time he spent helping Tatum regain her ability to walk.

"How about we go for a celebratory ride around the hospital?" Kennedy suggests.

"Okay," Tatum replies and Kennedy guides her towards the wheelchair that Harry pushes to them from the hallway.

Kennedy pushes the wheelchair through the doorway as Tatum talks animatedly about everything Kennedy's missed in the past few days.

A stuffy silence hovers over Blaire and Harry. It's the first time they've been alone together since they fought. Now that Blaire thinks about it, the fight wasn't even about anything really. It was like the fights they used to have before they started dating, never anything more than pointless arguing.

Harry walks backwards until he's resting against the far wall, his eyes training on Blaire's face. She tries to look away but she knows that she won't be able to avoid his piercing gaze for long. His eyes seem to read her face, examining every detail with urgency. Blaire feels a blush creep up on her cheeks and places her hands behind her back, fiddling with her fingers, nervously.

She looks away from him, feeling too self-conscious to meet his eyes again. He moves so silently across the room to her that she is surprised to see his feet come into place in front of hers. Her eyes travel up his body, admiring his blue plaid shirt that is buttoned down at the top, revealing some of his tattoos and his necklace.

She wants to ask him about the stories behind those tattoos since they must be awfully important if he got them permanently drawn into his skin. She'll have to wait until another time though because she is instantly caught up in the shock of his green eyes looking down at her. The smell of him takes over her senses and blinds her thinking. She immediately wants to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. She wants him to press her against the wall and kiss her until she can't stand anymore like that night in her apartment that seems so long ago.

"Blaire?" Harry whispers, barely audible, breaking her out of her daydreams.

"Yes?" she breathes back.

"Want to do something crazy?" he asks, taking another step closer to her.

Blaire feels her heart do a backflip. Just the way he said it makes her melt. He doesn't even wait for an answer before he grabs her hand in his and leads her out of the room.


	14. Chapter 14 | Like Flowers

**Happiness often sneaks in through a door you didn't know you left open.**

**-John Barrymore**

 

"Harry, where are we going?" Blaire asks as he pulls her into the elevator and the doors slide shut.

"You'll see," he answers, trying to hide the smirk from appearing on his lips.

Blaire tries hard to keep the annoyance at his lack of an answer from showing on her face.

"Well, we can't be too long because Kennedy will wonder where we are," she says, crossing her arms and giving Harry a disapproving look. The previous spell of Harry's close proximity, gone.

He smirks down at her, trying to bite back a laugh.

"Blaire, you worry too much," he chuckles and reaches out to grab hold of her elbow.

She doesn't protest as he closes the space between them until their bodies are touching. She can't take her eyes off his face as he leans down and kisses her. It's only a small kiss and he pulls away after only a second or two but Blaire's heart still peaks from the brief moment she got to embrace those addictive lips of his. She'd never been one to get high off of anything but if Harry's lips were cocaine, she would never want to quit.

His pink lips turn up into a smile as he steps away from her, just as the doors are opening onto the twenty fifth floor. Harry grabs her hand again and she looks down at how it almost completely disappears in his mess of long fingers. He leads her down to the end of the hall, past many closed wards and patients' quarters, all the way to the corner where they turn left and keep walking.

Blaire itches to know how he knows where he's going but doesn't ask, guessing that Harry automatically knows how to get to all the places where reckless things can occur. His face shifts upwards as he watches the ceiling, a smirk appearing on his lips when a handle comes into view.

He checks behind them to see if anyone is coming before he reaches up, effortlessly taking a hold of it and pulling down. The ceiling opens where the small door used to be and a narrow staircase descends all the way to the floor.

"After you," Harry says and Blaire grabs onto the steps without asking any questions.

She carefully begins to climb, holding on the edge of the stairs until she reaches another door.

"There's a door up here!" she calls down to Harry who's just begun climbing.

He chuckles and calls back, "I know! You have to open it! That's usually how doors work!"

Blaire feels a blush of embarrassment creep up on her cheeks and reaches up with one hand to turn the handle and push it open. She looks up in confusion when an expanse of blue sky appears through the small doorway.

Harry bumps her foot from below and grunts for her to hurry up so she scrambles through the door and out into the warm spring air. Harry's head pops through the door after she moves and he easily pulls himself onto the roof.

Blaire doesn't know what to do or why they are up there so she just stands and stares at the view. The city of New York is laying out for her as far as she can see and she didn't realize before that the city had the ability to be so beautiful.

"Wow," she whispers as Harry comes to stand beside her and brushes her hand with his.

"I know," he agrees, his eyes sweeping over the view.

"Are we supposed to be up here?" Blaire asks the first thing that comes to her mind.

"Of course not," Harry replies. "It wouldn't be crazy if everyone did it, now would it?"

"How is this crazy? We're just standing on a roof."

"And that's where the reckless part comes in," he says, walking away from her side and over towards the edge of the building. Blaire's heart begins to race and she feels queasy when he sits down and dangles his feet over the edge.

He turns around and sees her still standing there completely still and beckons for her to come sit with him. She shakes her head furiously and crosses her arms.

"You're not scared, are you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows teasingly at her.

"Yes," she answers.

"It's not like I'm going to let you fall," he says with a serious look on his face. "Besides, we didn't come all the way up here for you to just stand there."

Blaire considers it for a moment. Scenarios of her falling to her death jumping up in her mind and even some of Harry falling making the urge to stay put stronger.

"I'm not coming," she states, still holding her ground.

"Really? Because I think you are," Harry says, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Make me then," Blaire spats, her heart dropping in her chest when she realizes her mistake.

Harry stands up from his perch and starts walking towards her, the daring smirk never leaving his face. She backs up but knows she has nowhere to run. The only way she can go is down.

Harry's onto her in a few seconds, holding her wrists in a tight grasp and pulling her towards the edge. She feels her heart leap in her chest when she realizes that Harry can't see where he's going.

"Harry!" she exclaims with fright and he stops in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" he asks, loosening the grip on her.

"You need to watch where you're going so you don't fall," she says and he smiles.

"Thanks for worrying about me, sweetheart," he says lowly, another smirk overtaking his mouth.

Sometimes it really gets on Blaire's nerves how much he smirks. If it would have been any other guy, she wouldn't have been able to handle it but somehow it suits Harry. Almost like it's a part of him she would miss if he stopped.

He pulls her to the spot he was previously sitting and doesn't let go of her hands until she is sitting securely beside him. The distance below them makes Blaire's head spin and she grabs onto Harry's arm for balance. He chuckles deeply and allows her to continue clutching onto him.

Once her heart returns to its normal pace, Blaire loosens her grip on Harry until all she needs is her hand in his, which he doesn't mind at all. A small breeze is blowing and Blaire watches how Harry's curls fly around his face and into his eyes where he brushes them away and back above his forehead. Her eyes fall onto his lips which curve up into a smile when he notices her staring. She wants to kiss him again.

"Enjoying the view?" he asks, making her look up to his eyes.

"Yes," she answers, knowing he wasn't asking about the view in front of them.

"Me too," he says, smiling down at her and making her turn a slight pink.

They sit in silence for a while, just watching the world go by beneath them.

"Can I ask you something?" Blaire says and Harry looks at her for a second before nodding his head. "How many girlfriends have you had before me?"

The question doesn't seem to take Harry by surprise and he immediately asks, "Why? Are you jealous?"

"No!" Blaire says quickly. "I just want to know where I stand."

"Let's just say there's too many to count," Harry replies, looking down at his hands.

"Give me a number," Blaire presses and Harry squints up at her, a smile on his lips as he shakes his head and laughs.

"Alright, twelve," he admits, looking back down at his hands.

Blaire should have been expecting a number like that, a good looking guy like him but she can't help being taken aback. Twelve? Does that mean she is just number thirteen of a never ending amount of girls that Harry will date?

"Why do you look upset? They don't mean anything to me anymore," he says with a hint of pain in his eyes that quickly retreats when Blaire notices it.

"I'm not. You just have a lot more experience than me by the sounds of it," Blaire lies, brushing some hair behind her ear.

"How many boyfriends have you had?" Harry teases, poking her on the arm.

"Four," she says sheepishly. "One long term- that was Jace- and the rest were before high school so they don't really count."

"Only four?" Harry exclaims. "You'd think a girl like you would have plenty of boys falling at her feet. _Only four_."

"What does that even mean? A girl like me or a guy like you?" Blaire asks and Harry looks at her, puzzled.

"Doesn't it drive you crazy how people constantly judge everyone by their looks? I mean, if only people could be blinder in their eyes than they are in their hearts. You'd be surprised by how many guys hit on me because I'm beautiful but have no idea how difficult and shut down I am on the inside!"

"You're not difficult. You just need someone who is willing enough to take the time to get to know you. Someone who loves with their heart and not their eyes," Harry says, trying to hide the fact that he is one of those guys that hit on her because of the way she looks.

Blaire looks at him for a moment longer before she throws her arms around his waist and buries her face in his shoulder. She doesn't care how much she hates him most of the time. Harry always can find a way to make her come around and tolerate him again. Even though she knows she is far from loving him, she doesn't want him to give up on her yet.

When Blaire and Harry return from their trip to the roof, Kennedy and Tatum are waiting for them in the room. Blaire was right about Tatum worrying where she went but Kennedy is beside herself with the idea of Blaire and Harry running off alone together. Even though Blaire isn't in the mood to spend time with her sister, Kennedy convinces her to go down the cafeteria with her to have some coffee and chat.

The cafeteria is an extremely clean and sterile place, much like the rest of the hospital. All of the tables are scrubbed spotless with the smell of cleaners still radiating off them and into Blaire's nostrils, making her eyes tear up.

"What do you want?" Kennedy asks, standing at the chair opposite Blaire and running her fingers lightly along the back of it.

"Just some Camomile tea, please," she replies and Kennedy leaves her to walk over to the tea dispenser.

Why is Kennedy still pushing this relationship idea onto Blaire and trying to get her to rush through things? Blaire wants to slowly pace things with a clear head so that she doesn't fall with too much force when there is no one there ready to catch her. It seems that everyone is on Harry's side and wants Blaire to be happy. The only problem is that even when she's with him, she's hardly ever happy, mostly because of the way he sets her on edge all the time.

Kennedy comes back and sets the tea down in front of Blaire. She watches the steam rise from the mug and her thoughts cloud with memories of Harry on the roof and how he told her she needed someone who loved with their heart.

Is Harry the type of person capable of doing that? It sure doesn't seem like it with the rude attitude he always possesses when he is around her and the way he closes himself up whenever she asks about his past.

"Blaire?" Kennedy's voice comes through her thoughts, making her eyes snap up.

"What?" she says.

"Are you okay?" Kennedy asks, worry crossing her features.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking," Blaire answers, picking up her mug and taking a sip.

"About what?" Kennedy pries, a smirk appearing on her lips.

"Stuff," Blaire says, making Kennedy laugh.

"So, about Harry then," she confirms, her knowing smile growing wider.

Blaire can't keep the guilty smile from curling up on her lips and the light pink from creeping up on her cheeks.

"Don't be so ashamed Blaire! He's hot!" Kennedy exclaims making Blaire face palm herself and groan.

"A hot ball of annoying, yeah," Blaire retorts.

"Admit it, you want to get all over that," Kennedy smirks.

"I do not!" Blaire denies, the blush growing deeper on her cheeks.

"Why not?" Kennedy protests, starting to look more and more annoyed with Blaire's innocent stubbornness. "You need to get out of this 'I refuse to feel any emotions' ditch you're sitting in and learn how to live for once!"

"I do know how to live!" Blaire defends but knows not so deep down that her sister's right. The only time she ever gets out and takes risks is when Harry forces her to.

"Trust me, Blaire. Take it from someone who's not afraid to take a risk-"

"Oh! So you mean I should sleep with every guy I see?" Blaire snaps, failing to keep her voice down and making the few people in the cafeteria turn to stare at them in disbelief. "Tell me, Kennedy. When have you ever been with a guy for more than a few nights since high school?"

"I've had plenty of long relationships with guys," Kennedy hisses.

"Oh, yeah. Like who?" Blaire questions, raising her eyebrows.

"Parker Sterling," she spits out and then sits back in her chair with a smug look on her face.

"What?"

"Yeah. You heard me right," Kennedy confirms. "Do you remember when I was with Matt a few years ago? Well, when I found out he was cheating on me, I decided to get revenge by sneaking around behind his back as well. The only problem was finding the right guy. He had to be as sleazy and manipulative as me. Then I remembered you telling me about your boss and how good looking he was, especially the part about how he was always a huge jerk to you. So I found his number in your contacts and we agreed to meet that night. We were screwing each other for three months behind your back."

"How could you do something like that?" Blaire asks in disbelief.

This is her little sister that she always used to think was so pure and innocent. Now she feels like she doesn't even know who she is anymore. And why would she choose Parker? Of all the guys in New York, why did she have to pick the one that makes it his ambition to make Blaire's life a living hell?

"I told you. I wasn't going to let Matt have the satisfaction of cheating on me," she explains. "He found out eventually though. He walked right in on us. You should have seen his face. I swear he was going to throw Parker right out of the window. That was the last time I spoke to either of them."

"Kennedy, oh my god, I just can't believe you would do something so vile," Blaire splutters, rubbing her temple with the tips of her fingers.

She tries to have another sip of her tea but her stomach won't cease its churning.

"I'm not your innocent, baby sister anymore, Blaire. I do what I have to to protect my own pride," she says, taking a long drink from her tea.

She sets the cup down on the table and smirks at Blaire.

Blaire can't believe that Kennedy was actually sleeping with her boss right under her nose. She knows that Kennedy is flawed when it comes to noticing how boys never actually cared about her, but the fact that Parker kept hitting on Blaire the entire time he was with Kennedy causes a flare of despise to ignite in Blaire. She is going to confront Parker and demand to know why he insists on torturing her.

~

"Tater!" Kade squeals as Tatum wipes her paint covered thumb across his nose, leaving a bright orange dot on the end of it.

Tatum smiles and looks down at the picture of a sunset she's painting, pausing for a second before swiping her thumb in the bowl of orange paint and dabbing it on the end of her own nose.

"Look, Kade. We're twins now!" she giggles and Kade looks at her face before bursting into a loud laugh that makes Trinity snap her head up from her magazine and smile.

Trinity has been bringing Kade over for visits nearly every time neither of them had appointments. Blaire doesn't mind though since Tatum doesn't have anyone other than adults to play with. Even at school she didn't have that many friends.

When her classmates first were told about the cancer, they were fully supportive in her fight but as soon as the excitement died down, they started treating her like she was something broken and cast her away. But that didn't bother Tatum even for a moment. She loves school and was always eager to go, even if it meant receiving weird looks from her peers. Tatum loves to learn.

"How's he doing?" Blaire asks, sitting beside Trinity and crossing her legs.

"Fine. He's recovering really well so far. The doctors keep telling me he'll be out of here in a few weeks but I know better than that," she says, setting down her magazine. "Even if he leaves this place seeming like he finally beat it, we'll be back."

"At least you have the hope of getting out of here intact because right now it looks like that might not be my case," Blaire sighs.

"Don't say things like that. You can't give up hope, it's the only thing you have left to hold onto so hold onto it like its air and you're terrified of drowning," Trinity says, looking at Blaire with a sad smile.

A small silence drapes over them as they think about hope and how crazy it sounds given where they are sitting right now. Blaire's attention turns to Tatum and Kade painting on the floor. She can't help but focus on the long, white scar on Kade's leg again.

"If you don't mind my asking, where did Kade get that scar from?" Blaire asks Trinity.

"Oh, that's from his bone marrow transplant," she answers. "They caught the Leukemia when it was in its early stages, you see. The core of the cancer was right in his leg and they immediately suggested a transplant. Well, I was a terrified mother back then, I still am, so I jumped at the opportunity and they took him into surgery the next day. It took away nearly all of the cancer cells so they've been doing some chemo treatments to rid his body completely ever since."

"So, it was worth it? Even with all the risks?" Blaire asks, swiveling in her seat to face Trinity better.

"That transplant saved his life," she answers, looking down at her tiny son with paint stains all over his clothes and face, giggling and making more.

Blaire feels her heart fill with happiness for a brief moment. Trinity and Kade have hope and it is their hope that gives Blaire hope, even if it is only going to last for a little while.

~

"Come on Blaire. You need to get out of here for a little while," Harry insists, grabbing his keys out of his jacket and jingling them in his hand. "It's driving you insane. I can tell."

"You don't know anything, Harry! And I'm not going!" Blaire spats when Harry hands her his white sweater with a look of determination on his face.

"I do know one thing," he says, watching Blaire grasp the sweater angrily.

"What's that?" Blaire growls.

"That I'm a lot stronger than you and I can always make you," Harry smirks.

"I'd like to see you try," Blaire dares him, not moving from her position on the chair.

Harry smiles with a flash of mischief in his eyes and steps towards her. He reaches out his arms, almost as if he is going to tickle her but she puts her foot up on his stomach, blocking him from reaching her. He smirks down at her and raises his eyebrows. She shakes her head, her eyes widening.

Harry quickly reaches down and grasps her ankle in his hand, removing it from his torso and leaning over her. Blaire's breath fans into his face as his bright green eyes scan over her. His tongue runs along his pink lips and Blaire's hand shoots up to his face to hold it there. She admires his features as he admires hers.

She likes the way his hair wisps up in tight curls around his face, giving him a childish, innocent look. She likes the way his eyes are such a pure color of emerald green she can just stare into them for hours, contently lost. She likes the way his plump lips curve up into a sly smile, causing his dimples to appear in his cheeks and make her heart flutter against her chest. He looks so beautifully angelic in that moment that she can't imagine ever wanting to look away.

"Harry," she whispers and his eyes lock on hers, making her heart leap. "Kiss me."

He leans forwards so that their lips brush together. He smiles before parting his lips slightly and pressing them to hers. Her senses are filled with him and she feels a rush of electricity surge through her as they become closer. She can feel the heat from his body hovering over hers and pulls him closer, slipping her arm around his back.

She grasps onto his shirt and moans as his lips travel to the spot just below her jaw. His teeth nibble her skin gently before he covers the bites with more kisses, sending chills of joy along her spine. Her back arches up towards him and their bodies are pressed together for a moment before she returns to the chair.

Harry's lips return to hers in one final kiss before he lifts his head up, fluttering his eyes open. His eyes hold onto hers with their addicting pull and he hovers over her, breathing slowly. Blaire reaches up and places her hand over his heart; it's pumping quickly against his chest. Just below her fingertips is all the answers she can't find on the surface and so she searches his eyes for the least bit of surrender but he just smirks down at her. Out of all the things she likes about him, the one thing she hates is not knowing about his past.

"Let's go," Harry says, looking away from her and straightening up, pulling her up with him.

Blaire doesn't fight this time, she wants answers and maybe if she goes with him, he will give her some.

After arranging for Kennedy to stay with Tatum, they head off to his car and enter another one of their silent car rides. Blaire's never understood why Harry tenses up so much whenever he is behind the wheel and it bothers her slightly as she watches his knuckles turn white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

"Harry, are you okay?" she asks, timidly.

"Fine," he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

He looks angry as he stares straight ahead but there is something about his expression that is just plain sad. Blaire turns her attention from him, deciding not to question him further and looks out the window at the open fields stretching out on either side of the road. The sky is patchy with a few clouds and streams of sunlight peering between them, revealing holes filled with light blue.

She tries hard to focus on something other than Harry or Tatum but their faces won't stop spinning around in her head. It's weird how she thinks she is an overprotective mom and now she can feel her protective nature spreading out to include Harry.

An overwhelming feeling of dread sweeps over her when she realizes she cares about him, even if it is only a little bit and how they are destined to not last. Whether it is fighting or cheating or death, something is going to tear them apart and Blaire knows there is no way out now, she will end up hurt no matter what.

The car turns off the highway and onto a dirt road lined with tall sycamores and pines, making them feel like they are cut off from the rest of the world. Harry continues driving along the winding road until it opens up to a wide meadow. Blaire's eyes dart around, looking out the windows at the wide expanse of rolling grass in front of them, dotted with white daises blowing around in the breeze.

"Harry," Blaire begins but is lost for words.

Why did he bring her here? How did he find this place? She has too many questions pouring into her head at once to collect her thoughts.

"Come on," Harry says, holding out his hand to Blaire as he waits outside the door.

She takes it slowly and he helps her out, placing his other hand on the small of her back and leading her into the tall grass.

The breeze picks up, blowing Blaire's hair behind her and making the grass dance and tickle her bare legs. Harry stops walking when Blaire gets ahead of him and lets go of her hand, crouching down into the grass and letting out a low sigh. Blaire copies him, sitting beside him and watching him looking up at the sky that is reflecting in his eyes.

She notices his hand on the ground next to her and carefully places hers on top of it, slipping her fingers through his. He continues looking up before looking down at where their hands are tied together and biting his lip. Blaire notices how troubled he looks and sighs before moving closer to him and resting her head on his shoulder.

"Tell me," she whispers so quietly she thinks the wind may have carried it away before it could reach his ears.

He turns to look at her and she sees the guilt in his eyes before he places a finger under her chin, pulling her in for a quick kiss. She pulls away, thinking he's just trying to distract her from asking him anything else, but feels sorry when she sees him look at her disappointed and hurt before turning to face the ground again.

"Harry, I can't help it go away unless you tell me," Blaire says and Harry pulls a clump of grass out of the soil, throwing it away into the wind.

"You can't help me," he mutters and then coughs as if he just let something slip that he wasn't meaning to.

Blaire reaches up and brushes the hair out of his face that the wind put there and he glances at her momentarily, before feeling the sympathy in her eyes and turning away.

"Harry, who hurt you? You can trust me," Blaire says, never taking her eyes off of him. She's never seen him like this before.

"Love," he answers, finally looking up at her.

Blaire notices the deep sorrow that drains the color from his eyes, making them look empty and ghostly.

"Harry, love hurts. I know that, but you can't let it get to you like this or you'll be just like me," Blaire says, placing a hand on his knee.

"Sometimes I feel like I lost the ability to love a long time ago and now I'm just scrambling around in search of it again," Harry says, tracing over Blaire's fingers. "I just feel like I'll never be able to completely lose sight of the love that hurt me."

"It just takes time, Harry. Love is like flowers. When a new love blooms," she stops to pull out a daisy up by its roots. "Another dies."


	15. Chapter 15 | Come Away With Me

**Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.**

**-Carl Bard**

 

Tatum is lying asleep on the bed, her long, brown hair splayed out on the pillow in waves; her breathing is coming out quietly and is the only sound in the room. Blaire strokes her hair before settling down in a chair, content to finally have a moment to herself, even if it is only for a couple minutes.

A knock on the door makes Blaire's head snap up. Why is someone knocking? Usually the doctors and nurses just come right in. She stands from her chair and walks to the door, peeking through the window and spotting Kennedy's face behind the glass. Blaire backs away, thinking about whether it is a good idea or not to let her inside after what she told her about Parker.

Blaire looks through the window again and Kennedy gives her a small smile and holds up a bucket of her favorite ice cream. Groaning loudly, she jerks the door open to Kennedy's now triumphant face.

"Blaire! I don't even know where to start," she exclaims as she places the container of ice cream down along with her jacket. "I'm so sorry for what happened the other day. I should have told you about him straight away but I knew you wouldn't approve of it. Can you forgive me?"

"Kennedy, I'm mad at you for not telling me but I think I have no choice but to forgive you. I need you here. I can't go through this without you," Blaire says, giving Kennedy a small smile.

"I'm here for you, Blaire. I'll always be," Kennedy smiles, pulling her into a hug. Blaire drags out the moment, glad to have her sister back again.

"And since you're apologizing do you have anything else you want to tell me?" Blaire asks when Kennedy pulls away to grab the ice cream.

She freezes mid walk and turns to Blaire with a guilty look on her face.

"Well," she begins, "There is something. Remember that trip I was planning a few weeks ago?"

"What about it?" Blaire counters, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow at her.

"I didn't exactly cancel it," Kennedy finishes, flinching away and waiting for the yelling to start.

Blaire feels anger rise in her but it quickly recedes. She should have seen this coming; it is her meddling sister, after all.

"Why?" she breathes out, letting her arms fall to her sides.

"I just thought, uh, it would be a good way to get you out of here," Kennedy answers, wincing when she realizes how stupid she sounded. "With a guy, I mean."

"What? Why would you do that? I didn't even have a boyfriend then," Blaire says, the volume of her voice rising slightly.

"I was hoping things would work out with Mike..." Kennedy confesses, smiling sheepishly. "I was hoping you would find someone and go away with them so you could have the chance to fall in love again."

"How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of my personal relationships, Kennedy? I'm not your little puppet that you can just control all the time!" Blaire bursts out; flinching when Tatum sits up in bed, staring around in shock.

"Mom, what's wrong?" she asks, groggily.

"Nothing, go back to sleep," Blaire says, glaring at Kennedy.

Kennedy glances at Tatum and then smiles at Blaire, bouncing up and down excitedly, not even fazed by Blaire's angry outburst. "So, what do you say, Blaire?"

"What do I say about what?" Blaire asks, haughtily.

"About you and Harry taking the trip?" Kennedy says, rolling her eyes and glancing at Tatum again who is sitting up in her bed, listening to the whole conversation.

Blaire finally sees what Kennedy is trying to achieve. She's going to use Tatum to get Blaire to agree to go on the trip with Harry.

"No, I can't do it. I can't leave all this right now. I can't," she says, looking over at Tatum and shaking her head repeatedly.

"Mom..." Tatum begins, getting up from her position on the bed.

"No, Tatum. Go back to sleep," Blaire interrupts and Tatum retreats back under the covers, watching her mom warily.

"Well, I better get going," Kennedy says, wandering over to Tatum to give her a quick hug goodbye, "You think about what I said, Blaire, and maybe you'll see the good behind my intentions."

Blaire has a look of anger and shock on her face as she watches Kennedy walk out the door. She can't believe her ears right now. Who is this person? The sister she knows would never make devious plans behind her back and cheat on her boyfriend with her boss.

"Mom, are you mad?" Tatum whispers from under the covers and Blaire turns to look at her.

"No, just surprised," Blaire replies, rubbing her mouth with her fingers. "I think I need a little walk."

After settling Tatum into bed again, she slips out the door and begins walking down the long corridor. She doesn't pay much attention to where she's going so she's surprised to find herself standing beneath the door in the ceiling that leads up to the roof. She takes a shaky breath before jumping up and clamping her fingers around the handle. She pulls it down and begins to climb the steep ladder. The top section is dark so she uses the light from her phone to find the doorway out.

She pulls herself through it and sitting on the edge, wonders how she's supposed to pull the ladder back up. She notices a pulley system on the side of it and reaching down, she carefully brings the ladder back up and closes the door.

She steps onto the roof and immediately notices how different it seems without that mischievous, smirking boy telling her to stop being so afraid and just sit down with him. She's too terrified to even go near the edge without Harry being there so she drops down where she's standing and hugs her knees to protect herself from the cool breeze.

The view is even more beautiful at night. The way the city lights are reflecting off the sky, making the clouds seem bright and the sound of the cars rushing by below, making her feel like she's on top of the world. Other than the annoying feeling of dread from Kennedy's suggestion and the absence of Harry, the night up here would have been perfect.

Once again, Blaire can't believe what her sister is trying to do. Why is it always that stupid trip idea that makes them have a falling out? Why is it so important to her when Blaire wants nothing but for it to go away completely? After all, Kennedy can't really think that Blaire will just drop everything and go when Tatum is so sick and needs her.

Blaire feels anger building up in her and she wants to just stand up and yell until she has no emotions left in her. This is the second time that Kennedy is planning Tatum's death ahead of time. Blaire can remember that the first time she brought up the trip was because she thought Tatum wouldn't have time to experience all the great things life has to offer.

But this time is different, Kennedy is thinking that Tatum will die, leaving Blaire to run free with some guy she hardly even knows. Is that really her intentions or is Blaire reading into it too much? She doesn't know but she does know that she is going to have a hard time trusting her sister from now on.

~

"Blaire," Harry smiles as Blaire walks into the hospital room the next morning.

She's slightly taken aback at the sight of Harry being there so early in the morning. She watches him curiously as he sets down his coffee and stands up to greet her. She allows him to wrap his arms around her waist and press a soft kiss to her forehead but she can't take her eyes off of Tatum. The way she's sitting on the bed, smiling at her, reminds her of the way that Kennedy smiles at her when she's hiding something that she's extremely pleased about.

"What's going on here?" Blaire asks, escaping Harry's arms and walking over to sit on the bed. She looks up at Harry who has a sly smirk on his face.

"Tatum was just telling me about a trip Kennedy offered," Harry explains, his smile growing wider.

"You mean the one I turned down?" Blaire counters.

"You mean the one you were too stubborn to accept?" Harry retorts, walking over to sit beside her. "Blaire, you know how I feel about you being trapped in here. This is a perfect opportunity to get out of here for a few days and have a break."

"I'm not going. There's too many important things I'd have to leave behind," Blaire declines, shaking her head repeatedly.

"Blaire," Harry whispers, reaching out and grabbing her hand, placing it in his lap. "Come away with me."

"Harry... I-I... I can't," Blaire stammers, looking from him to Tatum. "I can't leave her now."

"Mom, go. I want you to," Tatum interrupts, making Blaire stare at her wordlessly.

Harry watches the both of them and Blaire starts to feel uncomfortable. She doesn't know what to do now that it's three against one. She doesn't want to leave Tatum behind and she isn't going to be pushed into a decision so easily.

"Harry, can I talk with Tatum alone?" Blaire says and Harry nods, getting off of the bed and walking to the door.

He looks back one more time before he leaves and Blaire sighs, putting her head in her hands.

"Mom, I'm letting you go," Tatum says and Blaire looks up at her.

"I don't want to go. I don't want to leave you here alone," Blaire says.

"I won't be alone. Aunt Kennedy will stay with me," Tatum points out and Blaire shakes her head.

"No, I can't leave you with her. What if something happens?" Blaire asks.

"I'll be fine. Please go," Tatum begs, grabbing Blaire's hand and squeezing it gently. "I don't want this to hold you back."

"It's not holding me back. I have no choice but to stay," Blaire says, pulling her hand away and getting up off the bed.

She starts pacing back and forth while Tatum thinks of another way to try to convince her. Why is everyone against Blaire on this one? Can't they see she doesn't want go halfway across the world when her daughter is hospitalized with terminal cancer?

"Do you love him?" Tatum asks, making Blaire stop her pacing and stare at Tatum with her mouth open slightly.

"No, I barely know him," Blaire answers, looking over at the door in the fear that Harry might be eavesdropping.

"He's good for you," Tatum smiles. "I know he makes you happy."

"So do you," Blaire counters, sitting back down on the bed and pushing Tatum's hair out of her face.

"I see how he looks at you," Tatum says. "Ever since the first time he came over for dinner I knew. I knew he was going to fall in love with you."

"Harry doesn't love me. He's afraid of love because he's been hurt in the past. Kind of like me," Blaire says, looking down at the chipped, purple nail polish on her fingers.

"I still think you should go. You need a break from everything. You're starting to look like a zombie or something," Tatum giggles and Blaire finally cracks a smile.

"I'll think about it," she sighs, looking at the door again.

She wonders what a vacation with Harry would be like. How would they cope with all the arguing they do? They probably wouldn't even make it onto the plane before they had another fight.

Maybe Tatum's right though, what if Harry is changing? What if he is falling in love with her?

~

Blaire looks around the room and smiles. It's full of all her favorite people. Tatum is sitting on Kennedy's lap with a box in her hands. Flynn is leaning against the wall, sipping on a smoothie and racing his fingers through his messy hair. Harry is standing beside her in the doorway with two suitcases and carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.

"Well, we better be heading out," Harry announces and Blaire looks down at her shoes.

She feels tiny arms wrap around her waist and pulls Tatum into one more goodbye hug. She leans down and kisses the top of her head, trying to hold back the tears that she's choking on.

"This is for you," Tatum says, handing her the box that is carefully wrapped in purple paper with a white ribbon tied around it. "It's a going away present."

"Thank you," Blaire says and begins to unwrap it.

"No, don't open it until you get there!" Kennedy exclaims, jumping off the bed and running towards her.

She laughs at Blaire's confused face and pulls her into a tight hug, rocking her back and forth. "I'm sorry for all the trouble this caused. I'll see you when you get back and I love you."

"I love you, too," Blaire whispers and lets go of Kennedy so she can pull Harry into a hug, too.

Flynn walks over and hugs Blaire with his one arm awkwardly before Blaire pulls him for a proper one.

"Give Parker hell for me," she whispers into his ear making him chuckle.

"Have a good trip. You deserve it," he says, before pulling out of the hug and smiling at her.

"Okay, everybody, we really have to go now or we'll miss our flight!" Harry announces and everyone chuckles.

Blaire picks Tatum up one more time and holds her tightly. "I love you, baby. I'll see you in a week," she says, setting her down on the ground.

"I love you, mom. Bye, Harry," Tatum says before running back to the bed and waving at them as Harry picks up the bags and leads the way out.

The process of checking in at the airport takes a while and Blaire feels constantly lost, never having been in airport since she was a kid. Everything has changed dramatically and she holds onto Harry's hand tightly in fear of getting separated from him.

Once they're boarded on the plane, she finally relaxes in her window seat, leaning back with her head on the headrest and putting in her earphones. She drowns out the sound of the engine as the plane takes off down the runway and tries to ignore the feeling of her stomach in her throat as it leaves the ground.

She glances out the window as the buildings become smaller and smaller until all she can see is patches of ground surrounded by ocean. Her mouth feels bitter with all the unsaid words of the goodbyes that are still sitting on her tongue. She wishes she would have told Tatum so many things just in case it was the last time she'll see her but she knows Tatum would have just brushed it off if she tried, telling her that she would be fine.

She closes her eyes and tries to sleep but the anxious excitement of the trip is finally starting to catch up with her. She turns down her music and takes off the white sweater of Harry's that she had kept, wrapping it around her knees in a makeshift blanket. She closes her eyes and lets the slight vibration of the plane relax her.

Just as she's drifting off, she feels something leaning on her and she flutters her eyes open. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Harry's head leaning on her shoulder. He's fast asleep and she doesn't want to move him. In one sleepy movement, he tucks an arm around her waist and cuddles into her more. She really doesn't want to move him now. The warm and safe feeling his body brings makes her eyes feel heavy and she falls asleep to the steady rhythm of his rising and falling chest.

When the flight attendant wakes them up, saying they will be landing soon and to buckle their seat belts, Harry groggily pulls away from Blaire.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice thick with sleep and a goofy smile plastered on his face.

"Hi," Blaire smiles back.

She stretches and yawns before buckling her seatbelt. That was the best sleep she's had in a long time with no nightmares shadowing her mind the entire flight.

They grab their luggage after the plane lands and check out of the airport. The traffic outside is nowhere as busy as New York traffic but the sudden brightness and change of scenery still gives Blaire a dizzy feeling. They have just arrived in their first destination, Queensland, Australia and now they have to find the car that will take them to their hotel.

"Over there," Harry says, pointing to a black jeep with a man leaning against it, dressed in all white with the words _Auzzie Cabs_ written on his sleeve.

Blaire picks up one of their suitcases and walks towards the cab. The sun beats down on her and she's thankful their only plans are to spend time either in the ocean or on the beach. The driver takes the bag from Blaire and sets it in the trunk. She notices the name Murray written on his name tag and also the way his eyes trace up and down her body briefly before they land on her face and he smiles.

She warily steps into the back seat, closely followed by Harry. She decides that men are the same all around the world and she is glad to have Harry to protect her. He lays his hand on her knee as they start the drive to the hotel. Blaire looks out the window at the miles of beach passing by and all the people on it tanning and playing volleyball.

They drive along until they come up in front of a huge hotel. Blaire stares up at it from her window. She loves the way the water and beach reflect off the glass panes that surround it, making it unique. Harry grabs her hand and guides her out into the beating sunshine again. An employee from the hotel comes and puts their luggage on a trolley and shows them to the entrance.

When they get inside, Harry sits Blaire down on a couch while he goes and talks to the woman at the desk. She watches him leaning against the desk in his white _Rolling Stones_ muscle shirt and blue jean shorts. He takes off his sunglasses and hangs them on the front of his shirt as he hands the woman his credit card and she hands him the room key with a big smile on her face.

Blaire feels angry with the woman as Harry walks back over to her carrying their bags. Harry is always attracting the stares of women and it always leaves Blaire feeling extremely jealous. Harry is hers and she's the only one allowed to look at him like that.

"Let's head up," Harry says, clutching the small yellow key in his hand and passing a suitcase over to Blaire.

They walk into to the elevator and push in the button for the second floor. When the doors slide open, a hallway is revealed that's painted an aqua color with dark blue trimming and a large window at each end, overlooking the highway and ocean.

Their room has a dark blue door, identical to the other ones and a silver number near the top. Harry sticks the key in the lock and turns it, pushing the door open with his hip. The room has a cool feeling to it with sky blue walls and large windows in every room, showing the same spectacular view. The furniture is in a dark purple color with white highlights, making it stand out from the rest of the room.

They set down their luggage and decide to settle in later. Harry calls a cab and they head out one of the biggest tourist spots around.

"Here you are," Harry says, handing Blaire her scuba gear and gesturing over to the ladies change room. "I'll wait here."

Blaire looks at the change room and back at Harry. She suddenly feels nervous to be in nothing but a tiny bikini around him and is just about to tell him she's changed her mind, when he pulls off his shirt. She has to suppress a gasp as he reveals his tanned, tattoo covered body. She admires his broad chest and long, toned stomach, mostly concealed by a large butterfly tattoo.

"I know I'm hot but there's no need to drool," Harry smirks and Blaire snaps her head up, blushing profusely as she grabs her bag and dashes off to the change rooms.

She emerges a few minutes later, dressed in a cute, black bikini that Kennedy packed for her with a snorkel hanging loosely around her neck. She spots Harry waiting for her by the men's change room, now sporting a loose pair of red swim shorts that shows off his v-line. He watches her walking towards him, his eyes traveling up and down her exposed skin with a smirk on his face. She catches his eye and he winks at her, making her stomach do flips.

His oxygen tank is already slung over his back and he's holding his goggles at his side. Blaire's tank is beside him on the ground and she walks over and picks it up. She slips her arms through it and buckles the clasp but struggles to tighten it.

"Can you help me?" she asks Harry and he chuckles before reaching in and tightening it in one easy pull.

His fingers remain on her bare skin afterwards and her nerves are set on fire as he traces them along her shoulder and down her arm, making goose bumps form on her skin.

He removes his hand, smirking as he takes her hand in his and walks towards the water. The Great Barrier Reef is crowded with people and it's difficult to maneuver their way to the water. Blaire looks out ahead of them at the ocean sparkling in the sunlight and feels the salty air tickling her nostrils. Harry leaves her side and dips his toes in the clear blue water, digging them into the sand.

"Come on," he says, holding out a hand to her.

She reaches out from her spot on the beach and grasps his warm hand in hers. He tugs on her arm and she stumbles forward into the cold water.

"Harry!" she squeals as the water laps up around her ankles.

"What?" he shrugs innocently, still holding onto her hand. "I didn't do anything."

She glares at him before he pulls her forward a few more steps until the water is up to her knees.

"It's cold," Blaire shivers but Harry ignores her protests and continues dragging her along.

The water is up to Blaire's shoulders and Harry's chest when he stops and pulls his goggles down over his eyes. Blaire does the same and pulls out her mask, adjusting the strap onto the side of the goggles.

"Harry..." she begins, starting to feel uneasy about what might lie underneath the surface.

"Don't be scared," he says, taking her hand again and giving it quick squeeze. "I won't let go until you tell me."

"Okay," she says and gives him a quick smile before putting the oxygen mask in her mouth.

She takes a deep breath and looks at Harry who gives her a nod and a thumbs up. They dive under together and it takes a moment for Blaire's eyes to adjust after she is completely submerged. When they do, she can't believe how beautiful it is. About a kilometer in front of them is a colorful expanse of coral and fish swimming in and out of it. She spots a few other scuba divers exploring the reef and she desperately wants to join them.

Tugging on Harry's hand, she pulls him along beside her as they swim towards the reef. As they get closer, a school of exotically colored fish swim so close by them that Blaire can feel the movement of them in the water as they dart around them. She turns to Harry and he smiles at her, making a goofy face under his goggles.

They swim closer to the reef and are able to pick out more tiny details like the way the coral sways in the current and the way the tiny fish swim in and out of it in tight, little groups. It's amazing and even though Blaire doesn't love swimming, she could have stayed there all day. She's never really taken the time to realize what a colorful and happy world they live in.

Once they explore all that they can see, they begin the swim back to shore.

"How was that?" Harry asks after he takes off his mask and goggles, brushing his wet curls out of his face.

"Absolutely amazing. I could do that every day for the rest of my life," Blaire admits, strapping her goggles to her oxygen tank.

"Sounds great but why don't we go lie on the beach instead?" Harry suggests, squinting against the sun.

"Sure," Blaire answers and begins wading back to shore.

When they get there, Blaire grabs their towels from her bag after returning the equipment and meets Harry on the beach. He grabs the towel and lays it down on the sand. Lowering himself onto it, he pats next to him for Blaire to join him. She sits down beside him and leans back on her hands, basking in the hot sun. She pulls a hairband out of the bag and ties her damp hair into a bun before lying down on her back.

Harry glances down at her before dropping down onto the towel on his back next to her. He turns his head to face her and his eyes get illuminated from the sun. He reaches out and cups her cheek, making her heart skip a beat. His lips part as he stares at her face, soaking in every detail like it's the last time he's going to see her. She lifts her head up, leaning on her arm and he copies her, never looking away.

He leans in closer and places his forehead against hers, his lips only a centimeter away from hers. He slowly leans in, brushing his nose against hers lightly before their lips meet. He kisses her carefully, using his soft lips to part hers so his tongue can slip between them. She lifts her hand and places it on his upper arm as their tongues dance in her mouth.

She pulls away for a moment to catch her breath and then resumes, kissing him slowly. She never wants to rush things when she is with Harry. She wants to take things slow and savour the little things like this moment because she never knows which moment could be their last.


	16. Chapter 16 | Whiplash

**People are like stained glass windows: they sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if there is light within.**

**-Elizabeth Kubler-Ross**

 

Blaire and Harry arrive at their hotel in Greece a day later. Harry heaves their luggage up the front steps and over to the desk as Blaire trails distractedly behind him.

"Reservation for Styles," he says to the man behind the counter.

The man clicks some keys behind his computer screen and his eyes search for their information.

"Here you are," he says, double checking the information and reaching under the desk for their key.

He pulls out a thin card and hands it over to Harry who nods in thanks before taking the key and pocketing in the back of his shorts.

He prods Blaire in the back with his hand, guiding her towards the elevator. They get in just as a woman and her two children scramble out and Blaire's mind immediately travels back to Tatum.

"Hey, stop thinking about it," Harry whispers and nudges her cheek with his finger.

Blaire gives him a weak smile and doesn't bother questioning how he knew what she is thinking since he always seems to know what's on her mind.

"I just worry about her all the time," Blaire says, staring at her distorted reflection in the metal surface of the doors. "Does that make me a bad mother?"

Harry sets down his bag and grabs her by both arms. "You're a great mother, Blaire. Trust me," he assures her. "And you're not the only one. I worry about her, too."

Blaire feels relieved at these words. Maybe it means she isn't as overprotective as she thought. Maybe all mothers are like this, at least, all the good mothers. She gives Harry a small smile and reaches up on her tiptoes to peck him on the lips, receiving a smile from him in return.

The elevator doors slide open and they walk to their room. As soon as they get inside, Blaire runs straight to the window. She sits on the ledge admiring the way the moon hovers over the ocean below them, meeting the dark water with a white shadow. The shore is covered in long docks that are scattered with fishing boats and people pulling in their last nets of the day and throwing back what they can't keep.

Blaire reaches up and presses her fingers against the glass, hardly able to believe that she is actually here and it's not just a dream. Harry comes and sits across from her, his face pale from the moonlight and his eyes bright against his dark lashes. He runs a hand through his messy, windswept curls and then places it in his pocket.

"Do you know what's crazy?" Blaire asks, still looking out the window.

"What?" Harry replies, smiling at her.

"That I'm here with you. I never would've have guessed the first day I met you that a few weeks later we would be here together," Blaire says, finally looking at Harry.

He chuckles and grabs her hand from the safety of her lap.

"Well, there hasn't been a girl yet that was able to resist my charm," he smirks.

Blaire shoots him a look and he starts laughing.

"I'm just joking, Blaire!"

"No, you're just an asshole," she mutters under her breath and stands up from the window.

"Where are you going?" Harry calls after her.

"I'm going to bed!" she yells back, grabbing her suitcase and heading towards one of the bedrooms.

"Sleep tight, sweetheart!" Harry shouts, not able to keep the smirk off of his face. He loves the rise he can get out of her.

"And don't even think about sleeping in here!" Blaire warns, closing the door behind her and making Harry chuckle deeply. Then he turns back to the window, the smile falling from his face as he looks out at the horizon.

Blaire wakes with a loud sob and finds herself sitting upright in an unfamiliar room. Her tired eyes struggle to focus on her surroundings but are quickly filling up with blurry tears. The dream was so real that she can't shake the feeling of grief that is consuming her.

The people dressed in black are still stuck in the corners of her mind. They are sobbing and wiping their eyes with long black handkerchiefs where they are tightly huddled around a small casket with a white faced Tatum laying inside.

She falls over on her side as the sobs shake her body, stealing her ability to catch her breath. Tears fall from her eyes and spill down her cheeks, leaving cold trails of wetness behind, shining in the moonlight. Blaire tries to muffle her cries with the blanket but they still escape her mouth in loud gasps, echoing off the walls. The crying distracts her so much that she doesn't even hear the quiet knocking on her door. She doesn't notice when Harry opens it, sees her crying and comes rushing to her side.

"Blaire?" he says, placing a hand on her shaking shoulder.

She can't even lift her head to face him, let alone answer him. "Blaire. Blaire, everything's okay. I'm right here."

She slowly lifts her tear-streaked face to look at him. He lifts his hand and wipes her cheek with his thumb, removing her fresh tears.

"You're alright," he whispers, his lips turning up in a tiny smile.

Blaire lets out a shaky breath and nods her head. Harry continues to brush her cheek with his thumb and watches her face turn from frightened to only slightly shaken.

"What happened?" he asks.

"It- it was just a- a dream," Blaire stutters, her voice coming out in a sleepy croak.

"How about I stay here until you fall asleep?" Harry offers and Blaire nods her head, settling back onto her pillow.

Harry pulls the covers over her and kisses the top of her head before standing and climbing onto the other side of the bed. He sits up against the headboard and reaches over to place a hand on Blaire's back but she surprises him when she grabs her pillow and readjusts it so that it's on top of his lap before resting her head down again and rolling onto her stomach. She hardly ever voluntarily puts herself in couple-like situations but he isn't about to complain.

Gently, he puts his hand down on her back and rubs small circles against it until he hears her soft breathing fill his ears. Then he rests his head back against the headboard and sighs contently. He knows that he is slowly winning her over and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

The next morning, Blaire wakes up to a hazy sun streaming through the tiny bedroom window. She stretches her arms out around her, not really sure of what she is searching for but knowing that there's something important missing.

Her brown eyes flutter open and find the bed empty, as if it was all a dream. No, it couldn't be, she thinks, none of her dreams were ever that sweet. The presence of Harry's sweet smell still clings to the blankets and pillows and Blaire buries her face in them, enjoying her little piece of morning heaven.

She closes her eyes again but the heavy sunlight persists until it's blinding her through the wide open blinds. She groans and rolls over, getting tangled in the sheets and muffling her face in the pillow. The events of last night's dream still flash in her mind but are dimmed down by appearances of Harry's sleepy smile and crazy bedhead.

She scrambles out of the covers, feeling a sudden rush of excitement when she remembers where she is. She pulls a light, white vest over her tiny, gray shorts and _Nirvana_ t-shirt and walks towards the window, feeling her feet squishing into the carpet.

The bright daylight greets her with open arms as she pulls the lock out and lets the windows swing wide open. The cool sea breeze hits her and it reminds her of scuba diving in Australia and lying with Harry on the beach.

Her eyes sweep across the endlessness that is the Mediterranean Sea. A huge, white cloud meets the water on the horizon creating a contrast on the blue and green and stretching out in faded wisps that are blended into the blue sky. Fishermen are already out on the water and Blaire shakes her head, laughing to herself. She thought that she was up early. She takes one final deep breath of the salty sea air before shutting the windows and pulling her vest tighter around her. She grabs some new clothes and heads off to the shower.

Harry awakens to the sound of water pounding against tile and lifting his head up, he cranes his neck to see above the arm rest of the couch. He vaguely remembers something about getting up in the middle of the night, Blaire crying, him staying with her until she fell asleep and then not being able to make it back to his room, he collapsed on the couch and slept there.

The water turns off as Harry sits up on the couch, rubbing his eyes and brushing his sloppy hair up over his forehead. He stretches and stands up, the cold tile meeting his bare feet as he walks to the phone and calls room service.

"Hi, can I get two orders of breakfast sent up to Room 318?" he says and waits for the person on the other end to finish writing it down, tapping his foot against the floor.

"Yes, thank you," he adds, hanging up.

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door and Harry opens it, allowing the employee with a food tray to walk inside. Harry leads him to the table where they place the food before he tips the man and sends him on his way.

As soon as he's gone, Harry rushes back to the table and sets everything out properly to try to impress Blaire and make him look more domesticated. He causally leans against the table and spins his phone around on the tabletop as he waits for Blaire.

She comes out of the bathroom wearing a pink pair of shorts and a black tank top, her wet hair is slung over her shoulders in loose waves.

"Harry, what's this?" she asks when she spots him standing beside the table covered in turnovers, waffles, coffee, and an assortment of fruits.

"I got us breakfast," he answers, pulling out a chair and gesturing for her to sit down.

"I- I thought we could go out for breakfast. There's a cute little pastry shop just past the marketplace that I really wanted to go to," Blaire says making Harry clench his teeth and breathe loudly through his nose.

"Blaire, we are eating here. I've planned out an excellent day for us and I will take you out for dinner later. But for now, you're going to sit down, stop complaining and eat your breakfast that I went out of my way to get for you," Harry says, pulling out the chair farther and patting the seat.

Blaire doesn't protest this time and quickly takes her seat, trying to hide her smiling at how funny it is that Harry's only upset because he's trying to impress her and she's trying to ruin it.

She picks up her fork as he takes his seat across from her, grumpily staring down at his plate. Blaire gives him a gentle kick under the table but he ignores it. She kicks him again, lightly tapping his toes.

"Stop playing footsy with me, Blaire," he growls, unable to keep the smile off his face as he looks up at her.

He quickly looks away and grabs some food with his fork, trying to act mad at her but failing miserably. Blaire pops a piece of honeydew melon into her mouth and smiles at his grumpiness.

"Sorry," she mumbles, stabbing another piece.

The silence that follows is normal for a meal but Blaire suddenly feels the urge to make conversation. "So, where are we going?"

Harry finishes chewing his chunk of waffle and swallows before answering, "I thought maybe we could go for a swim and then maybe a donkey ride through the village."

"Sounds fun, but we have to make sure we stop at the marketplace on the way," Blaire adds, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Of course," Harry smirks, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I'm going to go shower."

She watches him stand from the table and place his plate in the sink before heading towards the bathroom. He grabs the back of his t-shirt with his hand and yanks it over his head in one swift movement, showing off his muscular back before he disappears behind the door, but not before he catches Blaire staring at him and winking at her.

The familiar blush creeps up on her cheeks and she buries her face in her hands. Who does Harry think he is, making her feel this way? And he knows, he revels in the fact that Blaire feels a weak spot for him and uses it to his advantage, always leaving her speechless and blushing.

She feels slightly annoyed at him now that he is gone. Not because he didn't take her out for breakfast but because he never even hinted that anything that happened last night actually happened.

Did he forget? That couldn't be it; he wouldn't forget something so intimate and vulnerable. But if he remembered, wouldn't he have said something? It seems like something he would want to hold over Blaire, always reminding her of how she let him into her mind once, even if it was only for a few minutes.

She picks up the plates and walks over to the sink, deciding to wash them even though she knows it's someone's job to do just that. She turns on the water and lets it run over her hands and through her fingers, caressing her sun kissed skin. She slips the plate under the water and pulls out the small bottle of dishwashing liquid, adding it to the water and turning off the tap.

She begins scrubbing it clean just as the door to the bathroom swings open, a cloud of steam briefly fanning into the air before dissipating and revealing Harry with a dangerously loose, white towel strung around his waist. His damp skin looks radiant against the sunlight coming through the window, his already dark tan contributing to his muscular build.

"Just grabbing my clothes," he says before traipsing across the living room area to his bedroom, running a hand through his dripping wet hair and ruffling it.

Blaire's eyes follow him until he disappears and she still can't seem to look away. It's unfair of him to walk around nearly naked at the most random times so that Blaire doesn't have time to prepare herself. Who doesn't bring clothes with them in the shower anyways?

She hears his damp feet squeaking against the floor as he returns but she makes sure she doesn't look this time. Instead, she concentrates on scrubbing her plate extra hard until she catches his figure in the corner of her eye returning to the safety of the bathroom.

~

When Harry had told her that they were going for swim, Blaire thought that he had meant safe, regular swimming, but she should have assumed it was something crazy like this. It was Harry's idea, after all.

She shivers slightly as she peeks over the edge at the clear blue water below. The cliff is at least thirty feet high and it reminds her of sitting on the roof of the hospital. The same jittery feeling fills her stomach as she stands with her toes just behind the edge.

Harry chuckles, the bright sun reflecting off his eyes that are gleaming with enjoyment. Blaire brushes him off as she looks down at the water again, her stomach doing backflips.

"You're not going to let me get out of doing this, are you?" Blaire asks, looking up at him uneasily.

He shakes his head and smiles.

"You know me too well," he chuckles and sets his sunglasses that were sitting in his hair inside his wrapped up towel.

"Is it safe?" she asks, crossing her arms over her bare stomach and rubbing her arms, nervously.

"Have I ever dragged you into something that wasn't?" he counters, smirking down at her.

The statement doesn't reassure her at all. Almost everything he does with her could be considered unsafe in some way, this one blowing everything else out of the water. Even sitting on the edge of a skyscraper doesn't compare to this. They never had to jump off of it.

"Harry... I don't think I can do this," she says, backing away from the edge and over to the safety of her towel.

"I think you can," he says, walking towards her. "In fact, I know you will."

"You know I will," Blaire repeats, "How do you _know_ I will?"

Harry never gives her any answer except for the brief raising of his eyebrows and a quick smirk before he takes off running towards the edge and jumps, sending himself catapulting towards the water below.

"Harry!" Blaire yells and runs to the edge just in time to see him disappear beneath the surface with a splash.

The lack of disturbance in the water that follows sends Blaire's heart into a frenzy. He's dead, she thinks, it's her fault that he's dead. She feels a hollowness fill her up as she stares down into the deep water that swallowed him up.

She closes her eyes and covers her face with her hands, trying to wake herself up, even though she knows she isn't dreaming.

"What are you doing, Blaire? Get your ass down here!" a voice calls from below.

She uncovers her eyes and looks over the edge, immediately spotting Harry's very alive head bobbing up and down, completely unharmed.

She feels a wave of relief sweep over her and the hollowness being sucked out of her as she watches him paddle around below. She can't leave him down there by himself, especially now that she has to kick his ass after scaring her like that. She guesses that this was his plan to get her into the water from the very beginning.

"Come on!" Harry calls, holding his arms open for her.

"I'm coming!" Blaire answers and before the worrying can get the better of her again, she takes a few steps back then runs forward, sending herself hurdling over the edge feet first.

It feels like flying, like she is completely weightless, except for the fact that she is plummeting towards the water at an increasing speed. The adrenaline that is coursing through her veins makes her stomach lurch in excitement as the air wizzes around her. She closes her eyes and mouth before she breaks the surface. The water engulfs her as she continues to go downwards, bubbles of air escaping and traveling upwards. She spreads her arms out and kicks towards the surface where she knows Harry will be waiting for her.

His smile is the first thing she sees when she opens her eyes and before she has a chance to catch her breath, she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him. The kiss is like nothing she's ever experienced before. Maybe it was the brief moment she'd thought she lost him or maybe it was just the thrill of it all, but she never wants to stop.

His lips taste like salt water as she curls her fingers through his soaked hair, pulling him closer and letting her senses fill with the presence of him as their kicking feet keep them afloat.

~

The streets of Greece wind in and out, up and down, and everywhere else that is possible. The people that stand along the roadside and in their windows, hanging wet laundry on the line watch with curiosity as the strange couple makes their way by.

The path is covered in ancient cobblestones with not even a trace of green growing up through them and is surrounded by tall, stone houses that are so close together that they are almost touching. A small dog runs out onto the road, chasing them along and barking at the donkeys that they are riding on.

Blaire squeals as the saddle slides on the donkey's back and she's shifted to the right. Harry chuckles at her and receives a glare from her as she straightens up, gripping the reins tighter although it doesn't prevent the saddle from rocking back and forth as they stroll along the uneven path.

"You know what I don't understand?" Blaire asks Harry, pulling herself back to the top of the saddle once again with a groan. "I don't understand how people used to do this all time."

"Maybe it's because they weren't as afraid to fall off as you are," Harry points out as Blaire clutches the ropes tightly.

"Shut up," Blaire snaps, slightly loosening her hold and turning back to the watch the path.

"And to think, they actually sat like a lady," Harry comments, making Blaire shoot him a look.

"You try and sit like that! I bet you couldn't do it!" Blaire exclaims.

"Well, I'd rather try it here and not make a fool of myself in front of the guy that was renting us our donkeys like you did," Harry says.

Blaire reddens and hurries to pick up her pride.

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to fall on my face," she snaps and turns away from him, giving him the cold shoulder.

"You're right, we wouldn't want to scratch up that pretty face," Harry adds.

She can hear the smirk in his voice and feels her face redden; glad that he can't see the effect he's having on her.

He exhausts the conversation after that and they ride along in silence. Blaire can't ignore the picking feeling in her mind that she's had ever since last night. Harry acted so differently when she was open and vulnerable like that, he was like a completely different person. She wishes that that side of him would stick around more often because she really can't stand this side of him for much longer.

They reach a fork in the road and stop. There is an opening in the houses next to Harry and Blaire can see the ocean at the bottom of the rolling hills of long, green grass that is the same brilliant color as Harry's eyes. She looks up at him as he looks at her, running his fingers through his curls and giving her a small smile.

"Why don't we stay here a while?" he suggests, patting his donkey before placing a foot in the saddle and climbing off in one easy movement.

Blaire knows that her dismount will be nowhere near as graceful as his and is grateful when Harry comes over to her and offers his hand. She takes it with one of her hands and then he offers his other one and she hesitates. Her right hand is still gripping onto the reins and if she lets go, she will have nothing to stop her from falling.

"Don't worry. I won't let you fall," Harry chuckles and Blaire takes it as him daring her so she quickly releases her grip on the rope and moves it to Harry's open palm. "Now swing your leg over."

She shifts uncomfortably, trying to decide the best way to do it without getting into an awkward, unmovable position. Slowly, she lifts her right leg until its level with the donkey's back and then carefully, as fast as she can, moves it onto the other side. She smiles triumphantly down at Harry and he smiles back before quickly grabbing her around the waist and lifting her off. Instead of putting her on the ground, he throws her over his shoulder.

"Harry! Put me down!" she screams breathlessly as his arms flex and tighten around her thighs, holding her firmly in place.

"Are you afraid to fall on your face now?" he asks, chuckling.

"Yes! Now put me down!" Blaire exclaims, feeling the blood rushing to her head.

He laughs once more before pulling her back over his shoulder and placing her on the ground in front of him.

"Jerk," she mutters as she straightens out her top and puts her hair back into place.

"I was only joking, Blaire," he says as he's tying the donkeys to a nearby pole.

Blaire walks away from him to sit in the grass, crossing her arms and placing them on her knees. She stares angrily at the sun that is beginning to turn orange and getting closer to the water in the approaching dusk.

"Blaire," he sighs as he walks over to join her. "It was a joke. There's no reason for you to be mad."

Blaire turns away from him and breathes loudly through her nose. It's annoying how quickly Harry is able to turn something sweet into something sour. He is starting to give her a severe case of whiplash with all of his mood changes.

"Blaire," Harry whispers, edging closer to her until their legs are touching and his breath is tickling her ear. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not talking to you," she says, trying very hard to ignore the butterflies bumping against her stomach as she feels his warm cheek press against her face and his arms wrap around her in a childish way.

"Please, Blaire. I'm sorry," he whines, refusing to let her go even when she tries to struggle.

"Okay! Okay!" she exclaims after a few more seconds. "You're forgiven."

Harry retracts his arms with a smile on his face but doesn't move his leg from hers. Just feeling him there comforts Blaire, even though there's been so much going on in the last week, she hasn't forgotten Jace's return and is glad for Harry's nearly constant presence.

She's always known deep down that Jace would try to find her, even with the restraining order. He was always obsessed about the things he could get into his possession. Blaire being one of his biggest and most obsessed over objects of all. Now that she has Harry, she feels a feeling of safeness and reassurance that she's never had before.

She looks up at him and his green eyes meet hers. For a moment, she sees that same flicker of pain she's seen there so many times before. She wonders what he is hiding so carefully from her that could have hurt him so badly. He doesn't seem like the type of guy that would let anything hurt him. She wants to ask him about it. She wants to ask him so many things but she is afraid of him disappearing on her even though she doesn't exactly know yet if she wants him around.

There's just something about when he disappeared beneath those waves that made her scared. She can't let him get under her walls anymore; she is becoming attached to him, maybe even caring about him. But somehow she knows that he will force his way in no matter how hard she tries to keep him out because he is the only person that's even been able to find a crack.

Harry reaches out his hand, as if he can read her mind, and brushes her hair out of her face. He leans forward and kisses her temple, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and reining her into him.

"Let's get out of here," he murmurs, against her hair. "We'll go to that pastry shop you wanted."


	17. Chapter 17 | Constellations and Meteors

**And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.**

**-Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche**

 

It's a perfect day in Venice, Italy. The way the sun is shining overhead makes the water a perfect, pristine blue that's so clear that people can see straight down to the bottom. Yet it isn't too hot for the people being shown around in gondolas and walking amongst the narrow bridges and streets. Among them are many couples, young and old, strolling hand in hand and arm in arm along the water's edge. There is one couple that stands out from all of the rest, though.

Blaire and Harry are strolling along but they aren't hand in hand or arm in arm. In fact, they aren't even walking side by side. Harry is walking quickly, weaving in and out of people as Blaire struggles to keep up with his long strides. The only thing keeping him in her sight is his tall, lean figure sporting a red and black snapback on his head, keeping his wild curls tame.

Blaire can't help feeling claustrophobic as person after person bumps into her, making it even more difficult to keep up with Harry. Blaire lets out a cry of disgust when a man lays his hand on her shoulder and smiles at her hopefully. She pushes him away and jogs to catch up with Harry, grabbing his large hand and feeling a sense of security when it willingly wraps around hers.

"What's wrong?" he asks, slowing down slightly and looking down at her.

"Nothing, you were just leaving me behind because you walk so fast," Blaire lies.

"Sorry," he says, chuckling a little as he begins to swing their hands back and forth between them.

She feels bad for lying to him but she knows that he will freak out if she tells him the truth. Harry has always had a problem with guys talking to Blaire and lets his jealously get the better of his physical restraint. She's terrified of seeing him fight someone. Ever since he beat up Jace back at her apartment, she's known what he is capable of doing and doesn't want him to hurt anyone too seriously and get into trouble.

When the crowd begins to thin out, Blaire tries to let go of Harry's hand but he won't let her. She gives a big tug and her hand slips out of his, making him look down at her confused.

"My hands are sweaty," she says, grimacing and shaking the hand that he was holding.

"I don't mind," Harry replies, trying to grab her hand again but she hides it behind her back.

He looks down at her with a grin before looking up again. "We're here anyway."

"This is so cliché, Harry," Blaire comments as they stand at the edge of the canal that separates the two streets with deep, blue water.

Harry motions to a man perched up on the top of a gondola to come over and he begins pushing the boat towards the pavement.

"All the more reason to do it," he says, leaning forward with a groan and helping the man rein the boat in.

The gondola hits the side of the road and bounces back slightly before Harry squats down to hold it in place.

"On you go," he says to Blaire and she cautiously steps off the pavement onto the shaky boat.

She stumbles slightly as she steps down and Harry grabs her arm to steady her.

"Don't fall in," he smirks, letting go of her wrist when she turns around and smacks his arm.

He gets into the boat in one stride, not even losing his balance, probably because of his long legs. He sits down across from Blaire and nods at the man. The boat backs up into the middle of the canal and the man pokes it along using a long pole against the bottom.

"So, how are you liking the trip so far?" Harry asks, twisting his string bracelet around and examining the silver pendant hanging off it before looking up and meeting her eyes.

"Is that a trick question?" Blaire chuckles, looking at him in shock. "I'm regretting my decision to come with you more and more every minute."

Harry looks at her in concern and grabs her hands in his.

"What can I do to change your mind? Do you want to choose what we do from now on?" he asks, rubbing her hand with his thumb.

Blaire bursts out laughing and he looks at her, puzzled.

"It was a joke, Harry!" she laughs and he lets go of her hands, looking at her in surprise. "It isn't that funny when you're on the other end of it, is it?"

"I thought you were serious," he murmurs, looking down at his intertwined fingers.

"Harry..." Blaire says. "I'm having a great time, really. I mean, who doesn't love jumping off fifty foot high cliffs and riding on an uncomfortable donkey for hours?"

Harry chuckles and looks up, the sun igniting his eyes. "I'll make it up to you. I promise," he says, reaching out and putting his hand on Blaire's knee.

It's almost like she's suspended in a limbo and Harry is the only thing keeping her from floating away completely. She looks into Harry's eyes and places a hand on his. She doesn't even stop to think about the man just behind her, probably rolling his eyes at the two of them even though he should be used to being put in romantic situations with couples by now.

Although, the moment can't exactly be considered as a romantic one. Blaire was never a romantic person to begin with, always stumbling her way through dates with an awkwardness that made her stomach squirm and cheeks blush. And Harry wasn't romantic either, not that she expected him to be. But the moment still has a special meaning to Blaire, in all its non-romance, she feels that soft side of Harry returning again and doesn't want to say anything in fear of it retreating and disappearing inside him again.

Biting her tongue back to keep herself silent, she jumps up and moves to sit on Harry's seat. He slides down to make room for her and slips an arm around her shoulder. She rests her head on his chest and listens to the steady thump of his heartbeat. The sound relaxes her as she reaches up and traces the outline of his bird tattoo that is showing in the v-line of his white t-shirt.

Harry sighs contently and rests his head on the top of Blaire's, pressing his lips lightly against her hair. They sit quietly for the rest of the ride down the canal. Blaire hardly pays attention to the sights around them as they glide through the water, too caught up in her perfect moment that was also so bittersweet because she knows it won't last.

~

The one thing to know about Venice, Italy is that it's a city made up of water and bridges. Almost everywhere people look there's a road that ends with a straight, dead end drop into water and the streets are connected with small bridges to help people quickly across onto a different street. It's much more complicated than the streets off New York and that's really saying something.

The waterside is lined with buildings of all shapes and sizes. Some are tall and thin and made out of either brick or stone. The oddly sized windows on them have small shelves for plants and room to lean your elbows on as people stand and daydream. And there are doors high up that have small balconies attached that don't match the rest of the house.

Eyes immediately jump to the color of these houses that are unique indeed. Compared to the dull color of buildings in New York and anywhere else Blaire has ever been, these buildings are a breath of fresh air. Every house has a different color, making it stand out from all the others. They range from dark red to aqua to bright pink and are all so close together that they are touching.

The sky is darkening and covered in a blanket of grey clouds as Harry and Blaire walk along the narrow sidewalk next to the water. Blaire has a large, blue flower tucked behind her ear that Harry had stolen from a pot sitting on someone's window ledge, even though she'd protested, telling him she refused to encourage his criminal activities by accepting his stolen gifts.

"Taking something that grows in the ground isn't illegal," Harry says in a mock tone.

"Not if you pick it from the ground," Blaire retorts as they turn onto an old, stone bridge that is connecting the two islands.

"Alright. I'll remember that next time but for now could you just appreciate the gifts I give you and stop being so difficult," Harry says, leaning back against the stone railing and frowning at Blaire.

"I told you I was difficult the day you met me. You just have to learn to listen to people better," Blaire snaps and leans against the opposite side of the bridge.

She sighs and crosses her arms, staring hard at the ground. She's tired of fighting with him but they can't seem to ever have a conversation that doesn't end like this.

Harry stands from his position and swings a leg over the railing.

"What are you doing?" Blaire asks, standing up as well.

"Sitting," he answers, swinging his other leg over and dangling them both above the open water.

Blaire watches his back and she feels nervous. There's nothing to stop him if he falls in and she doesn't know how he will get back up if he does.

"Harry, can you come here?" Blaire asks timidly, afraid to say the wrong thing and make him loose his balance.

"No," he says plainly, not even turning to look at her.

She knows he's mad but she also knows he is doing this as a stupid, reckless game to scare her.

"Harry, please, I don't want you to fall," Blaire begs, taking a step towards him and a sudden step back when he turns around.

"I'm not going to fall," he scoffs almost angrily but she catches the smirk on his lips before he turns around again.

"Harry..." she begins but is cut off when he stands up, anchored to the bridge only by his arms.

"See, I'm fine," he grins, leaning as far forward over the water as his arms will allow.

"You're an idiot," Blaire whispers, covering her eyes with her fingers.

The constant jumpy, nervous feeling in her stomach makes her want to reach out and grab hold of him but her feet remain where they are.

She peeks out from between her fingers as Harry slowly turns around to face her. His one foot gets jammed between the spaces in the railing and as he's turning his body to place the other one, he ends up losing his footing and his foot leaves the bridge. Blaire watches in horror as his hands let go of the railing and his arms fail in the air before he disappears from sight.

The sound of a body hitting the water radiates through the air along with Harry's loud exclamation, "Shit!"

Blaire runs over to the edge of the bridge and leans over to search the water for him. Her flower falls from her ear and down into the water where it sits there floating amongst the waves.

"Harry! You idiot! You complete fucking moron! Are you alright?" she yells down to him.

Only Harry's head and shoulders are visible, bobbing up and down in the water.

"Yeah! Just a little wet!" he calls back with a big, joking smile on his face.

"How are you going to get back up here? Do you need me to go get help?" Blaire asks, still leaning over the railing.

"No, I don't need help! I'll be up in a minute!" he calls back, his eyes darting around the canal for some way to get out.

Blaire rolls her eyes and shakes her head at his ridiculousness. Of course he wouldn't want anyone to help him and make him look like any less of a man. Her heart races in her chest as she looks around the canal in hope of a gondola coming along that could pick him up but there's no one in sight.

The sun is now resting just above the horizon and in a few minutes they will be bathed in darkness. Harry swims over to the wall of the canal and places his hands on it, searching for a way up. He finds a crevice in the wall and sticks his fingers into it, using his strong arms to pull himself up and out of the water so that he can grab a hold of the surface with his other hand.

With a loud groan, he pulls himself onto the pavement with his legs still dangling over the water and rests for a moment. Blaire runs down the sidewalk and her hands are ready to pull him up as he lifts his leg over and pulls himself on to the pavement, scrambling to regain his balance.

She reaches down and sweeps the drenched hair out of his face as he looks up at her with a smile on his face. Slowly, he stands up, the water from his clothes plummeting towards the ground in large droplets and leaving a small puddle beneath him.

"Why do you seem to have a habit off falling into water and scaring the shit out of me?" Blaire snaps as soon as he's finished shaking most of the water off of him.

"The first time doesn't count. It was on purpose," he points out and starts walking back in the direction of the bridge.

Blaire follows him and grabs a hold of his arm, angrily.

"I don't care. Don't ever scare me like that again!"

"Is Blaire starting to care about me?" he smirks down at her, making her eyes widen.

"Absolutely not!" she exclaims, folding her arms over her chest.

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind if I just did that again?" he asks, lifting his leg and stepping on bridge's railing again.

"No!" she yells and grabs the back of his shirt until he comes back down to her level.

Harry chuckles and steps forward, placing his hands on either side of her waist. He can see right through her defenses and he loves knowing how much that bothers Blaire. He tightens his grip and lifts her up on the top of the railing.

"Oh my god!" she exclaims, gripping his arms so tightly that he grimaces and tries to pull away. "Harry, I'm going to fall! Don't let me fall!"

"Blaire, your grip is so tight I don't think I could let you go even if I wanted to," Harry says and Blaire looks down at his arms, loosening her hold ever so slightly.

Harry steps closer until he's standing right between Blaire's legs and their bodies are pressed together. Blaire can feel the water from Harry seeping into her clothes and she shivers from the cold but Harry only holds her closer. The familiar scent of him relaxes her mind and she leans into him, pressing her forehead against his. Their lips brush lightly against each other as Harry moves his hands down, securing them on her lower back. Blaire sighs, breathing him in and letting her heart leap into a frantic pace in return.

She leans in slowly, connecting their lips in a delicate way that sent chills through her body. She never gets tired of kissing Harry. The way her heart thumps loudly against her chest and the blood rushes to her cheeks makes her feel so alive and reckless.

Harry stops kissing her first; his lips lingering against hers for a moment before he leans back and flutters his eyes open. Another thing Blaire loves about kissing Harry is getting to look at him up close. She thinks it's inappropriate to think that a man is beautiful but Harry is.

~

The one thing that every person that goes to Italy or lives in Italy has to do is eat. Food and wine is what Italy is most famous for, besides the Leaning Tower of Pisa and Colosseum, of course. Italians are known to make the best pizzas and pastas in the world and to not indulge in the many restaurants would be a considered nothing less of a sin.

All along the canal there are many candle-lit, white-table-cloth, classical-music-restaurants. But Harry wouldn't want to waste his time in a fancy, bland place like that. Instead, he takes Blaire to an old-fashioned, family-owned, pizzeria located just on the edge of the canal. Literally, it is placed right where the water meets the pavement so that customers would be set to overlook the water and Venetian activity as they ate.

It's dark when they are sat down at their table by a little, old man with a sweet smile that compliments the wrinkles on his face. He is dressed in a red and white striped shirt that has the name Adriano written on it and is tucked into his pants. He sets two menus down in front of them and smiles once more before heading back inside.

Blaire looks down at the way the light from the restaurant is shimmering against the black water, stretching out in golden, broken waves. A gondola is tied to the shore across from them, completely still in the calm water. The sky above is covered in stars that nobody that lives in Manhattan ever gets the opportunity to see and Blaire can't seem to look away.

"You know what's always fascinated me?" Harry says, making Blaire look away from the stars to meet Harry's eyes.

"What?" she asks.

"How massive the sky is. Like, if you really stop and think about it, it's huge isn't it? Every direction you look in, it just stretches out for more miles ahead of you, like it's just tempting you to try to catch it. And the stars, they just make it seem more endless. Do you know how big a star is?" Harry asks and Blaire shakes her head in response.

"They are about one million kilometers in diameter" he continues, looking up at the sky. "And if I reach up I can hold one between my finger and thumb. It makes me feel so small. Like, I'm nothing, only another face in the crowd or star in the sky."

"Maybe that's all we are. Just something as insignificant as a single star in the night sky," Blaire says as Harry stares at her across the table.

"Some stars are just more beautiful than other stars. Those are the constellations," Harry smiles and Blaire reddens when she realizes he's talking about her.

"I'm no constellation, Harry. I'm more like a meteor, spinning out of control and just waiting until the moment comes where I collide with something," Blaire says, avoiding his eyes and looking back out over the water.

Before Harry can say anything to convince her otherwise, Adriano comes back to take their orders. He doesn't have anything to write on which Blaire finds odd.

"Don't you need to write down our orders?" she asks and Adriano only smiles down at her.

"I do," he answers in a thick, Italian accent. "Up here."

He taps the front of his balding head and winks at her.

Blaire smiles back, liking this man more and more every minute. She picks up her menu which had been left untouched until that moment and scans the main courses.

"We'll have the Margherita pizza with whatever other toppings you want to put on," Harry says and places his large hands down on the table in front of him.

Blaire's mouth opens to say something about his rudeness, but remembers that Adriano is there and quickly closes it. Adriano nods before moving out of the way and allowing a young woman with long, curly, brown hair to place down two tall glasses of red wine.

"We didn't-" Harry starts but Adriano shakes his head.

"Consider it a gift from us to you," he says, smiling once more and heading off to fetch their food.

Blaire doesn't say anything to Harry while they wait, afraid that it will come out hostile and start a fight. If he wants to be a jerk to her then so be it. She isn't going to let him make a fool out of her in public.

Adriano returns a little while later carrying a large pan with pizza on it in one hand and plates in the other. He doesn't even seem worried about dropping them as he weaves through the tables towards them. The smell hits Blaire before the sight and she inhales deeply. The sweet doughy and meaty scent travelling up her nose and making her stomach groan in impatient protest.

He sets the pizza down in front of them and places the plates down. Blaire can hardly wait to let the cheesy goodness make contact with her mouth but she remains where she is until Adriano puts his hands behind his back and walks away. Harry is the first to take a piece, setting it down on his plate and watching the steam rise from it, clouding up the air.

Blaire takes a piece as well, picking up her fork and cutting the end off. She pops it into her mouth and waits as the flavour explodes onto her tongue. The perfect amount of cheese, meat, and spices melted together on a light but thick crust is like nothing she has ever tasted before.

Harry picks his piece up and takes a bite. Blaire watches his face change from unsure to positive that this is the best pizza in the world.

"Mmm," he moans, taking another bite. "I have to say, this pizza is better than the one we never had on our first date."

"I have to say, I agree with you," Blaire replies, picking up another forkful and smiling at him.

~

When they get back to their hotel, Blaire throws herself down on the lounge, resting her feet up and rubbing her very full stomach.

"You know what I can't stop thinking about?" she says to Harry as he unpacks his toothbrush from his suitcase.

"What's that?" he asks, heading over to the sink.

"How much Tatum would love being here," she answers, staring down at her folded hands and trying to swallow the lump that begins pressing against her throat.

"You'll have to bring her next time," Harry says, pulling the toothbrush from his mouth and leaning over the sink.

Tatum is always a touchy topic with Blaire and he's careful to make sure he says the right thing so he doesn't upset her.

He spits in the sink and rinses it down the drain before placing his toothbrush down and walking over to her. He sits perched on the top of the arm rest and kicks her foot lightly with his. She finally looks up at him and he smiles.

"Come on," he says. "We're going late night exploring."

"Late night exploring?" Blaire asks, looking at him in confusion. "Wouldn't it be better to go exploring during the day when everything is open?"

"No, we're not exploring buildings," Harry says, standing up from the couch. "We're exploring the sights that are brought to us under the endless, night sky."

"Alright but what if we get lost?" Blaire asks, uncertainly pulling on a light sweater and grabbing her phone.

"All the more fun," he replies, beating her to the door.

The night air outside is light and filled with silence. There isn't a single person to be seen in the dark streets or on the canal. The houses are lit up by their windows, meaning that almost everybody in Venice is enjoying a night in. Blaire finds the silence bothering her after a moment. Since she is so used to the constant movement and noise of New York, she feels oddly out of place, like she is missing something.

Harry grabs her hand and leads her down the first street to their left where it's so dark, Blaire has no idea how Harry knows where he's going. She moves closer to him as they maneuver their way through the darkness, emerging into a dimly lit space with more of the canal ahead of them. They take a right and walk to a bridge which they quickly cross. Blaire holding extra tightly onto Harry in fear of him falling in again.

They continue walking through the narrow streets and bridges until they are completely lost. Blaire isn't surprised by this, knowing that Harry has done it on purpose. They stop in front of another section of the canal and Harry brushes Blaire's hair from her face, keeping his hand against her cheek and looking into her eyes.

"Feel better?" he asks.

Blaire realizes that this was a plan to get her mind off of Tatum and she nods silently, trying to rid her mind of those terrible worries.

"Look, Blaire," Harry says suddenly and her eyes snap up in time to see a duck flying and landing in the canal.

Blaire smiles and watches it gliding along the top of the water before it dives for food, its bottom bobbing up and down on the surface. She looks up to see if Harry's watching it but his eyes are focused on her smiling face, his lips parted slightly as if he's in some sort of trance.

Before Blaire even has the chance to blink, he closes the distance between them and presses his lips to hers. His hands cup her face, tangling in her hair as his lips mold against hers. Blaire wrings her arms around his neck, pressing herself into him as he lets out a deep moan.

He pulls away briefly, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed as he glances over his shoulder. His hands drop from Blaire's face and his grabs her hand in his, quickly pulling her over to a dark street and hiding them from sight.

The darkness engulfs them but Blaire has no trouble finding Harry again. He presses her back against the brick wall behind her and resumes their kiss. The desire to hold him close envelopes her as their lips continue to meet and part. She lets out a small gasp when he pushes her lower half into the wall, grinding his hips against hers and making her head spin. Her knees go weak and she holds onto his neck as she slides down. One of his hands reaches down and grabs her under her thighs, pulling her back up to him and letting her wrap her legs around his torso.

Harry moves from her lips to her neck, leaving traces of fire as he kisses and bites the skin. Blaire lets her head roll back against the brick and she breathes out slowly, closing her eyes and running her fingers through his hair. His lips find the spot just below her jaw and she shudders as he begins sucking on the skin.

"Harry," she moans, pulling his head away from her neck so she can look at him. "I can't do this."

He nods slowly, comprehending but not agreeing. He reaches up to stroke her cheek with his thumb before giving her a gentle kiss on her swollen, pink lips and pulling away. She lets her shaky knees release him and she drops back to the ground, looking up into his desperately tragic eyes. All of a sudden, she understands the reason why they are so opposite, jammed together like two puzzle pieces that don't fit. He is the constellation and she is the meteor.


	18. Chapter 18 | Later

**Love is a fire. But whether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell.**

**-Joan Crawford**

 

It's late on Friday when Blaire takes a seat on the chair beside the bedroom window, looking out at the people below but not paying attention because her mind is somewhere else completely.

The next morning, she will be on a plane back to New York and Tatum. All that she could think about on the flight from Venice to Rio was how terrified she is to return to her worst fears. Every night, her dreams continue to be haunted by visions of her daughter lying in a coffin and every time she wakes up sobbing. Although, she makes sure it's quietly so that Harry won't hear her again.

She unravels the towel that is resting on her head and lets her long, damp hair fall over her shoulder as she picks up the present that Tatum had given her the day they left. It's still wrapped up in purple paper and a white ribbon. Blaire has been anxious to open it this entire trip but she decided to wait until now.

She turns it over, her mind racing with all the possible things her daughter could have gotten for her. She shakes her head and sets it down on the windowsill, thinking that maybe now isn't the right time. She sighs and leans back in her chair, listening to the sound of Harry showering in the room next to her.

The little purple box captures her attention again a few minutes later while she's digging through her suitcase for an outfit to wear to the festival that her and Harry are going to be attending. She tosses her clothes on the bed and jogs over to it. Again, she picks it up and turns it over a few times in her hand, contemplating whether now is a good time or not.

She hears Harry getting out of the shower and decides it's better to open it before he comes in. She sits down in the chair and rips the wrapping off, throwing it to the side and opening the box. Inside she finds three separately wrapped objects with names written on each of them in black marker.

She picks up the first one with Flynn's name on it and tears the golden wrapping off. A tiny perfume bottle tumbles out wrapped in money and a note. She unravels the note and holds it up to the light. 'Dinners on me,' it says in Flynn's sloppy cursive. Blaire smiles and sets it back in the box.

She picks out Tatum's present next which is the smallest of them all. She carefully unwraps it and a tiny, silver locket falls out into the palm of her hand. She recognizes it immediately. It's the one her mother had given to Tatum on her sixth birthday and had remained empty because Tatum had told her, 'It's not empty. It's filled with love,' when she tried to give her a picture for it.

Blaire stares at it curiously. Why would Tatum give her this? Does it have something important inside?

Without another moment's hesitation, Blaire pushes down on the latch and opens the heart pendant, gasping when a row of pictures tumbles out. She grabs them and holds them up, examining the series of photos from the days before Tatum was sick. All of them are from trips that they took.

The one that really catches Blaire's attention is near the end. She finds herself smiling down at the picture of her hugging Tatum in front of an elephant statue, spewing water from its trunk. That day was the last time Blaire could enjoy herself without having to worry so much because that day was a week before Tatum became sick.

Only a few days later, they would be found in St. Michael's Children's Hospital while Blaire cried and Tatum suffered through the first of her many seizures. It feels strange to think back to a time where Blaire was free to do whatever she liked without constantly thinking something bad was going to happen. Even now, when she is hundreds of miles away, she finds herself thinking about her daughter and what kind of horrors she will return to.

Blaire averts her eyes and folds the pictures back up, snapping the locket shut. She knows that Tatum had given her the pictures to remind her of all the fun they had together on those trips so that she would have fun on this trip but Blaire's finding it extremely difficult to concentrate on such small things as her own happiness when her daughter's life is still on the line.

She sets the locket back in the box and stares down at that last gift. The one that has Kennedy's name written on the side. She picks it up slowly and opens it, afraid of what she might find. Her eyes widen when she sees what's inside and her hands release them. She watches in horror as the condoms topple to the floor and she covers her mouth with her hand. Is this what Kennedy is expecting to come out of this trip? Was she planning it so that Blaire would hook up with Harry this whole time?

Blaire's head spins as she stares down at them. She barely hears the bathroom door open as she scrambles to pick them up and shoves them under the mattress so there's no chance of Harry finding them and getting any ideas. Harry walks into the room and gives Blaire a confused look as she stands up from the floor.

"What are you doing down there?" he asks, pulling a black t-shirt over his head.

Blaire feels like there's something rising in her throat. Maybe it's the disbelief she feels towards her sister or the desire to get home to Tatum but she needs to get out of there and away from Harry as quickly as possible.

"Hey. What's the matter?" Harry asks, running over to her and crouching down beside her on the floor.

"I want to go home, Harry," Blaire says, standing up and pushing Harry off of her.

"What are you talking about? We're going home tomorrow," he says, standing up and grabbing her arm.

"No! I need to go home now!" Blaire exclaims, yanking her arm out of his grip and storming over to her suitcase.

She immediately begins throwing her things into it and muttering to herself about how much she hated this whole trip.

"Blaire, please, listen to me," Harry begins even though she continues to ignore him. "You've been away this whole time. What are a couple more hours?"

"No, you listen to me! You have no idea what it's like to have a kid with cancer and be taken away from her! You don't know what it's like to love someone like that because you're too afraid to love! I wish I had that ability! Believe me, I've tried to stop becoming so attached to people but they always insist on barging their way into my life anyways!"

"I know how you feel," Harry sighs, placing his hand on hers but she jerks it away.

"No, you don't! You've only known Tatum while she was sick! You never got to meet the person she was before! She had so much ahead of her and now-" Blaire stops there.

A sob escapes her lips before her hands shoot up to cover her face and she lets the realization of the seriousness of Tatum's disease crash over her once again.

Harry tentatively places his hand on her thigh, afraid that she might explode on him again but instead she grabs it in hers and leans against his arm, sobbing into his t-shirt. He lifts his arm up and pulls her into a hug, resting his cheek against her head.

"Shh," he whispers, holding her tighter. "It's going to be alright."

"H-how do you know?" Blaire whispers into his chest.

"I don't. I just haven't given up hope quite yet," he whispers back, kissing her gently on the head.

Blaire tries to smile but her lips feel like they're being dragged downwards. She pulls away from Harry and wipes her eyes. She's positive she looks like a drowned raccoon but his face doesn't show it as he gives her a small smile.

"I better go get cleaned up," she murmurs, standing up from the bed and grabbing her suitcase before heading off to the bathroom.

She closes the door quietly behind her and locks it before sliding down to the floor with her head in her hands. Why do these things always happen when everything is just beginning to feel alright again? It seems like she's just destined to never have a complete life, there is always going to be holes in her plans.

Kennedy's a big hole, in fact, she's like a crater and even though she always tries to patch and fix it, she can never find anything strong enough to protect it from her own self. Ever since that night she first announced the trip, she's been ruining everything.

If she'd only been a good sister and helped her get rid of Harry in the first place, none of this would have ever happened. She would still be at home with Tatum, where she should be and would have never have opened up to Harry like this.

She tries so hard to make sure that Harry won't know what she's feeling but it's like he has a crowbar stashed away to pry her open whenever he pleases. And to make her even angrier, he still refuses to tell her anything about himself.

She stands up from the floor and walks over to the sink where she turns on the tap. Her mind's still racing over how much she doesn't want any of this while she runs her hands under the water and washes the runny makeup off her face. She reaches for her make up bag and reapplies it before pulling her outfit back out of suitcase.

She slips on a pair of black shorts and white shirt with a large, red rose on it before opening the door to an empty bedroom. It's like nothing had even happened, not that she was expecting Harry to be waiting for her with open arms.

"Harry!" she calls into the darkness, feeling her way into the hallway.

She touches the light switch and turns it on revealing more emptiness.

"Harry," she whispers, creeping along the hallway and into the small kitchen.

He's still nowhere to be seen.

She walks into the living room and finds him lying on the couch, staring up at the blank ceiling. "Harry," she says, sitting down next to his feet.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," he says, propping himself up on his elbows and giving her a small smile.

"About what?" she asks.

"The trip and tonight and you," he answers, smirking at her as he shifts onto his knees.

She feels chills run down her neck as he presses his lips to her cheek and then moves to her earlobe, running his tongue along the edge of it before whispering, "Mostly you," and making Blaire's heart jump excitedly.

"H-harry, we have to go or we're going to miss the festival," she stutters as he begins kissing down to her collarbone, blowing gently on her wet skin and making her feel exposed again.

"That festival goes all night. We have plenty of time," he mumbles before grabbing her chin and pulling her in for a kiss.

Blaire can't shake the thought of the condoms that are currently stashed beneath the mattress and what Harry might be trying to do to her. She pulls away from his soft lips with a struggle and looks directly into his eyes.

"Later," she whispers.

"I'll be here," he says lowly and smirks before standing up from the couch and grabbing the room key off of the counter.

Blaire stands up and joins him, grabbing his large hands in hers and intertwining their fingers.

"Let's go have some fun," she says and Harry's face breaks out into a huge grin.

~

The atmosphere of late night Rio is overwhelming. Hundreds of Brazilians crowd the streets, weaving in and out between parked cars. Musicians are playing on guitars and trumpets and singing out at the top of their lungs so they can be heard over the rest of the noise. Even children can be found running in the streets, dressed in bright colors and carrying sparklers that they use to draw pictures in the air around them.

Blaire clutches onto Harry's arm as he pulls her through the bodies and into a less crowded space. He grabs her hand and spins her around before pulling her flush against him and taking her hand in his. He places his other hand on her waist and eases into the beat of the music.

Blaire feels slightly uncomfortable when he begins grinding his hips into her and backs away, creating space between them. The crowd bursts into a cheer as the song finishes and transitions into a new one. Blaire can hardly even begin to pay attention to the song because Harry's eyes are trained on her, gleaming with desire.

"Let's go get some drinks," Blaire says and grabs his hand.

She already knows that he isn't ashamed to touch her in public and she needs to get his mind somewhere else.

Her eyes widen when his hand slides from her back to the back pocket of her very tiny shorts. The feeling is almost foreign to her. She hasn't had any man touch her like this since Jace and even then she never gave him consent. Harry is her boyfriend but that doesn't mean he's allowed to be so forward with his actions, especially when there's no intention behind it other than getting laid.

Blaire has never forgotten the lesson her mother taught her about giving her virginity away to a boy that she loved. She had loved Jace. She doesn't love Harry and he definitely doesn't love her. He is only caught up in her beauty and she knows even that won't last forever.

They step into the first bar that comes into sight and are immediately greeted by more cheering. A large group of people are gathered around a television watching a soccer game, cheering and booing in loud outbursts every time something significant happens.

Weaving their way through the people, they reach the counter and Harry orders them two margaritas. The bartender, a beautiful young girl with long, curly brown hair and a thick accent hands them their drinks, topped off with pink umbrellas and swirly, fluorescent straws.

Blaire takes Harry's hand again as they walk over to a table and sit down. Another cheer erupts from the far side of the bar followed by several shouts and then near silence as they all concentrate on the screen again.

"Loud place, Rio," Harry comments, his eyes scanning the bar before landing on Blaire. "It's going to be hard to fall asleep tonight."

"Hmm," Blaire hums, averting her eyes from his face and over to the soccer game.

Why is he dropping all these hints all of sudden? Does he think it's going to make her want it more? She clears her throat loudly and shifts in her seat when Harry's feet tap hers underneath the table.

"Come on, Blaire, you haven't even touched your drink. What's on your mind?" Harry asks, setting his already half empty glass in front of him.

 _Not this trip, not tonight, and definitely not you_ , she thinks but bites her tongue to keep from saying it. She doesn't want to fight with him tonight.

"Nothing, I just have a headache," she lies, clenching her fists underneath the table to avoid visibly showing her lie.

"I could help you get rid of it," Harry suggests and every muscle in Blaire freezes. "Let's play truth or dare."

"Harry, I already know how your games of truth or dare turn out and I don't really feel like having to slap anyone's ass tonight," she says, remembering very clearly how embarrassing that night was for her.

"Please, Blaire. I promise no inappropriate dares this time," he begs, trying to hide the amusement on his face as he too remembers the look on the employee's face.

"I swear, Harry, if you make me do anything that will affect my dignity in any way I will never speak to you again," Blaire warns, earning a triumphant smile from Harry.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, taking another sip from his drink.

Once again the inner battle of choosing overcomes her and she looks into his eyes for any sign of mischief but his straight face keeps her from finding any.

"Dare," she answers and notes the look of surprise on his face at her decision.

"Blaire Carter, I dare you to have fun."

"That's not even a good dare!" Blaire retorts.

"Says someone that doesn't know how to do it," he counters.

"Fine, Harry, truth or dare?" Blaire spats, crossing her arms tightly against her chest.

"Truth," he answers.

A million questions rush into her head but she knows she can't ask any of them.

"Tell me the story behind one of your tattoos," Blaire says, gesturing at his inked arms.

"Which one?"

"The rose," she answers, reaching out for his arm and tracing over it with her fingertips as she waits for him to answer.

"Pick another," he says quickly, pulling his arm away from her.

"No. That's not how it works. You can't just back out of the question. You have to give me an answer," Blaire demands, staring straight at him but he refuses to make eye contact.

"Pick another one, Blaire," he repeats, finally looking up at her.

His eyes are empty and his mouth is in a tight line. It makes Blaire even more curious about the story behind the rose and why he's being so touchy about it.

Blaire sighs and her eyes search over his body until they land on the two swallows peeking out from behind his shirt. "What about the birds?"

"When I was younger I always loved the idea of flying. In fact, one day I decided to strap two homemade wings to my arms and jump out of my treehouse."

"Harry!" Blaire gasps.

"A broken arm and a sprained ankle taught me I couldn't achieve all of my dreams and the ticket to becoming the center of attention of all the fourth grade girls for a few weeks," he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair with a joking look in his eyes.

"I'm sure you used it to your advantage," Blaire says, rolling her eyes.

"I still do," he says, smirking at her and folding his hands around the drink in front of him. "So, Blaire, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Are you having fun yet?"

"Why are you so insistent about me having fun?" she snaps, leaning back in her chair again and crossing her arms.

"Because you're so boring," Harry says, earning a glare from Blaire.

"I'm not boring!"

"Prove it."

"Alright, Harry, just watch and see. I'll show you how fun I am," Blaire says through clenched teeth.

She jams her hand into her drink and fishes around until her fingers grasps around an ice cube. Standing up from the table, she gives Harry one more angry look before chucking the ice cube across the bar.

Harry turns around just in time to see it ricochet off the back of one of the men watching the soccer game. Blaire flinches and scrambles down to grab her purse as the man turns around angrily, letting his drink crash to the floor as he searches for the culprit.

Blaire grabs Harry's arm and pulls him towards the exit, stopping to yell, "Go, Brazil, go!" before she darts out the door with Harry close behind her.

They push through the crowd once more, except this time they are filled with the adrenaline of the moment so they reach the road faster. Blaire clutches her chest as they stand in the middle of the street, completely empty of cars because of the festival. She glances up at Harry who's shaking with laughter. She doesn't know if it's because of the thrill of escaping or just the fact that Blaire did something so stupid, but she's never heard him laugh like this before. A deep, giggly laugh that shakes his chest as it rings out into the air.

"I can't believe you did that!" he chokes out between waves of laughter.

"Me neither," Blaire admits and then the realization of what she did hits her and she doubles over in laughter.

Blaire being reckless on her on terms? What is happening to her? She has to admit though, it does feel pretty good and the man's reaction was priceless.

Blaire wipes the tears from her eyes as the laughter subsides but Harry is still going on as if he's never going to stop. Blaire admires the way his eyes crinkle and his dimples carve deeply into his cheeks as he enters another round of loud laughter.

"I love you," he says through outbursts of laughter. Just like that it tumbles out of his mouth and just like that his laughter ceases, a look of surprise on his face as he stares down at her.

Blaire doesn't know what to do or say so she just stands there with her eyes wide and lips slightly parted as she tries to remember how to breathe. How could the boy who is afraid of love tell her that he loves her? It doesn't make any sense. Maybe it's just an accident or a joke. It has to be.

"Blaire?" Harry says, reaching out to touch her arm.

She quickly dodges his hand and steps away from him.

"I- I think I need to take a walk," she stammers, turning away from him and running a shaky hand down her face.

It isn't a joke. He isn't laughing. This is real and Blaire can't decide how she feels about it. She knows she doesn't love him back and that is the worst part about it. She feels tears stinging in her eyes as she increases the distance between them, looking back only for a moment to find him starting to come after her. She covers her mouth to silence her sobs as the tears spill over her eyes and down her cheeks.

Harry reaches her eventually, placing a hand on her shoulder but not saying anything as she turns around and buries her face into his shoulder. He pulls her into a hug with his arm and gently rubs her back with the other one.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs into her hair. "I'm sorry I have the worst timing in the world."

"You said what you felt. There's no way of timing your feelings," Blaire mumbles, glancing up at him with glossy eyes.

He leans down and places a lingering kiss to her forehead before starting to walk forwards. Blaire finally lets go of him and joins him in the walk back to their hotel. They spend the entire elevator ride in silence and Blaire doesn't protest when he holds her hand, leading her into the bedroom.

Blaire slips off her shoes and takes a seat on the mattress, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head, all while watching Harry's alluring eyes travel from the floor to her face.

"I meant what I said," he whispers after a few moments of thought.

Blaire stands up from the bed and walks over to him, giving him a small smile. She knows that he meant it and that's why she feels so guilty about not saying it back. She just wishes there was some way to make it up to him, to tell him that she cares about him, even if it's not as strongly as he cares about her.

"I know. I just wish I could feel that way, too," she says, not being able to hold Harry's gaze any longer and staring down at her shoes.

Harry's finger presses against her chin and tilts her head up so that she meets his gaze again. She stares into his eyes; searching for the words he isn't saying as his hand moves up to cup her cheek. He pulls her in closer until their noses brush together and his hot breath fans against her lips.

"I could always persuade you," he whispers before closing the space between them with a heavy kiss.

Blaire sighs as his plump lips move against hers, making her heart accelerate and chills spread all the way to her toes. She weaves her fingers through her hair and pulls him as close to her as she can, craving for him in a way she never has before. He uses his lips to open her mouth and his tongue slips inside, dancing with hers.

He breaks away from her mouth after a few seconds and kisses along her jaw, running his tongue over the skin before moving onto her earlobe. He grabs the sensitive skin in his teeth and tugs on it gently before letting it slip into his mouth and sucking on it. Blaire lets out a quiet moan and grabs a fistful of his shirt as he continues to work his magic.

Again, he moves from her ear to her neck, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down to her shoulder where he stops before pushing his hips against hers. He slowly grinds against Blaire and she quivers with anticipation, grasping onto his shoulders and letting him allow the rolling movement to become faster and harder. His head falls onto her shoulder as a loud moan vibrates out from his chest and she feels his bulge press into her inner thigh.

In one swift movement, he walks her backwards until her thighs are touching the mattress and her hands are placed behind her, holding her up. He bends down and lifts her onto the bed, using his strong arms to push her down on her back in front of him. He crawls into the space between her legs and grabs his shirt at the nape of his neck with both hands, tugging it off and throwing it into the corner. He hovers over her, planting wet kisses along her collarbone as her fingers race over his bare skin.

She admires the tanned muscles contracting beneath her fingertips as she moves lower, skimming over the band of his black Calvin Klein boxers and feeling him tense above her. Her fingers work quickly to undo the button and zipper on his jeans, feeling the throbbing bulge just beneath her fingertips that causes her lower half to tingle with joy. She pulls the pants down over his hips and he rises up to shake them the rest of the way down before lowering himself over Blaire again.

He uses his arms to hold himself up as Blaire pulls him down for a heated kiss. He pulls away as her hands slide along his stomach, back to the hemline of his boxers. Her hands slip under the elastic and begin to pull down, feeling the heat being released out against her stomach. She whimpers, eager for him as she finishes disposing of the clothing.

"U-under the mattress," she whispers, referring to the condoms as Harry's hand reaches over the side of the bed and digs for one.

"Harry," Blaire breathes as he returns over her and reconnects their lips, cutting her off.

"Later?" he mumbles against her lips.

"Now."


	19. Chapter 19 | Hurtful Goodbyes

**Tears shed for another person are not a sign of weakness. They are a sign of a pure heart.**

**-Jose N. Harris**

 

"Blaire!" Kennedy exclaims when her sister comes into view.

Blaire eyes dart around the airport until she spots Kennedy running towards her just in time to prepare herself for the bone-crushing hug she receives. Blaire's eyes scan the terminal, looking for her daughter even though she knows it's pointless. She guesses she just expected her to come running like she always did.

"Kennedy," Blaire says, throwing her arms around her sister and sighing. "Where's Tatum?"

"She's back at the hospital waiting for you," Kennedy answers and breaks out of the hug to envelope Harry in one. "I hope you took good care of her."

"Don't worry. I hardly let her out of my sight," he smirks and Blaire feels her cheeks turn pink.

The events of their trip will certainly be hard to forget, not that she is planning on forgetting what had happened the night before.

"Alright. We can catch up later but I need to get to that hospital right now," Blaire interrupts, picking up her suitcase and heading towards the exit.

Kennedy watches her walk away, her face somber as Harry brushes past her and follows Blaire out.

Harry's eyes are trained on Blaire's anxious demeanour the entire cab ride back to Saint Michael's Children's Hospital. Her leg bounces against his and she keeps wringing her hands in her lap and running her fingers through her hair. Harry grabs her hand and squeezes it, earning a forced smile from her.

As soon as the car stops, she scrambles out and speed walks all the way to the entrance. The woman behind the desk recognizes her and waves.

"How was your trip, Ms. Carter?" she asks as Blaire impatiently waits for Harry and Kennedy to catch up.

"It was good," she says and spins around when she feels Harry's hand on her shoulder.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder as he guides her through the wide hallways and to the elevator. They step inside, the air thick with tension as Blaire resists the urge to start pacing the length of the small space. The ding of the elevator stopping brings Blaire back to her senses. She is about to see her daughter in a couple minutes for the first time in seven days and everything is going to be just like it was before she left.

Harry guides her past the doors as her eyes scan the room numbers. They walk right past the room that Blaire remembers being Tatum's.

"Wait, we passed it," she says, stopping him and turning back.

"I forgot to tell you. She's been moved," Kennedy says.

Blaire gives her a puzzled look but then continues down the hallway. They turn a few more corners before Kennedy stops and faces a door. "Do you want to go first?"

"Yeah," Blaire breathes, placing her hands against the wood.

She pushes it open and her eyes immediately land on Tatum.

"Mom," Tatum whispers, her voice fainter than Blaire remembers.

"Tatum," Blaire sighs, rushing over to her bedside.

Tatum gives her a weak smile and reaches her hand up to Blaire's face. Blaire guides her tiny hand to her cheek and holds it there, taking in a shocked breath at the coldness of her skin. Tatum looks thin, so thin her skin seems translucent under the harsh lighting. Her face is sunken, creating the illusion of age on her face and her eyes have a tired, pained look to them. She looks like she's already dead.

"Tatum," Blaire repeats, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She releases her hand and brushes Tatum's limp hair from her face. "My baby."

"Blaire," Kennedy says and Blaire slowly raises her gaze, remembering that she isn't here alone.

Harry looks down at her with glossy eyes, his lips set in a grim line. She looks away from him and over to her sister.

"Doctor Peters needs to talk to you," Kennedy says and Blaire looks back down at her daughter who is now beginning to fall asleep.

She nods silently and stands up from the floor, walking through Kennedy and Harry without a second look.

She walks down the long hallway, her feet remembering the way back as her mind races with accusations. Kennedy should have called Blaire the moment Tatum started getting worse so that she could have been there with her. How could she keep something like this from her for so long?

Blaire gasps when she hits someone going around the corner. Her eyes fly up to Doctor Peters face as he bends down to pick up his clipboard that had clattered to the floor.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, stepping back and giving him some space.

"Blaire Carter, just the girl I was looking for," he smiles, readjusting his papers.

"I already saw her, you know. You should have called me. Told me that she needed me back here," Blaire accuses.

"We would've but Tatum kept telling us she didn't want you back early," he explains.

"You're telling me that you let a little girl make a decision like that! What is wrong with you?" Blaire exclaims, prodding him with her finger.

"We try to make the last days the happy days," he says calmly.

"So, you really think there's no hope for her?" Blaire sighs, avoiding his eyes by staring at his stethoscope.

"That's what I needed to talk to you about," he says, placing a kind hand on her shoulder and guiding her into a walk. "The cancer has made a further advancement into her brain and it's one that we can't get to without even further harming her chances of survival. We think it's best to just wait it out and let her body do the fighting. She's a strong girl."

"You think I don't know that?" Blaire laughs humorlessly. "I've been chasing that little girl my whole life. Ever since she was born she's been so independent and fearless and I can't tell if that's a good thing or not."

"In this case, I'd say it's a shot," Doctor Peters smiles, nodding as they reach Tatum's room. "Let's go see how our little fighter's doing."

~

The next week moves steadily. Blaire spends most of it next to Tatum's bed as she sleeps the hours away. Whenever she wakes, it's only for an hour at a time and most of it is filled with the pain that rests in her liver and brain. Blaire begins finding it harder and harder to not scream at the nurses to give Tatum more medication to numb the flashes of pain that rock her body. She desperately wants to make Tatum know that she can do anything, make any situation better, like a mother is supposed to.

She has hardly talked to Harry or Kennedy since the day she got back, easily blocking them from her life and thoughts while she devotes all her time to her daughter. Harry had been persistent, telling her he wanted to be there for the both of them but Blaire had told him to wait until the right time. Kennedy has been in and out a couple times a day during her breaks but Blaire has ignored her attempts at conversation. She doesn't want to talk to her but she isn't going to deprive her of seeing Tatum since she knows how much Kennedy cares about her.

"Mommy," Tatum groans, being pulled uncomfortably from her sleep once again.

"I'm right here, baby," she says, leaning over her bed and clasping Tatum's hands in hers.

"Do you think it's nice?" she asks, struggling to keep her eyes from fluttering closed again.

"What?"

"The place we go when we die," she whispers.

"It's better than this," Blaire answers, stroking her hair as Tatum's quiet breathing fills the air again.

Blaire's tired eyes watch her chest rise and fall beneath the thin bed sheet and then look over to the three drips hanging around her head, filled with the fluids that are providing her with the nutrients she can no longer consume. She's so weak that she can't even sit up without assistance and has to be transported around in a wheelchair everywhere she goes. The drugs that are used to keep the pain at a minimum make her groggy so even when she is awake it's difficult for her to hold a conversation with someone.

Blaire strokes her hair once more and tucks the sheet up to her chin before bending down and kissing her forehead.

"I'll be right back," she whispers, standing up straight and walking towards the door.

She's shocked to see Harry sitting in the hallway with his head placed on his entwined hands. He looks up at the sound of the door, his face distraught and his eyes a dull shade of green.

"Blaire," he says, his voice flat.

"Harry," she whispers, barely audible as her throat constricts.

She doesn't know why but the sight of him makes her want to cry. Salty tears gather in her eyes and she stumbles towards him, falling into a heap on the floor beside him. He holds her shaking body as the sobs rock through her, all of the previous fears that haunt her coming to life. All of her nightmares becoming reality.

Harry leans forward and presses several light kisses to Blaire's temple before using his thumb to swipe the tears off of her cheeks. She buries her face into his shirt and inhales his strong scent. Silent tears slip down her face and roll off her chin every so often but the sobbing ceases. Harry pulls her closer into the embrace and Blaire entangles her legs with his, enjoying the way his warm touch provides her with the comfort she craves.

"What do you believe now, Harry? Do you still have hope for her?" Blaire asks, weaving her fingers in and out of Harry's long ones.

"I don't know," he whispers, "I'm not exactly sure of anything anymore."

Blaire sighs and rests her head on his shoulder. "I don't think I ever was."

Blaire jumps when a buzzing sound goes off and glances down at her wrist. The alarm that she wears there is a bright red color. She pulls her legs out of Harry's and places a quick kiss on his jaw. "She's awake."

"Can I see her?" Harry asks, taking Blaire by surprise.

"Of course," she says as he stands and offers her a hand.

She takes it and follows him to the door.

"Do you mind if I do it alone. I-I mean, I just need to-"

Blaire closes her eyes and nods her head. Harry smiles sympathetically and reaches up to stroke his thumb along her cheek.

"I love you," he whispers and Blaire feels her heart flutter again. She gives him a small smile as he turns and opens the door, disappearing behind it.

As Harry enters the dark room, a sense of dread washes over him. He takes a deep breath and turns on a light, illuminating the tiny space. Tatum's eyes flutter open before they land on him and a smile crosses her features.

"I thought I wouldn't see you again," she says, her voice thick and groggy as she tries to readjust herself on the pillow.

A look of frustration finds its way onto her face as Harry walks over and places his hands under her arms, lifting her into a sitting position and propping up her pillows.

"You don't sound very disappointed," he chuckles, taking a seat beside her feet.

"I am. I've had a lot of people to say goodbye to, Harry. Teachers, neighbours, friends, and some of them hurt more than others. I'm afraid I won't be strong enough to say goodbye to the most important ones of all," Tatum explains, staring down at her hands.

"Like your mom?" Harry asks, glancing at the door where he knows she is waiting.

Tatum nods her head, her lip quivering slightly but no tears fall from her eyes. "I'm not afraid of dying, Harry. I understand now that I'm going to miss out on a lot of things and that makes me sad but I'm ready. I've done my part and it's time for me to go."

"Your part?" Harry asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

"Remember how I told you I wanted to change someone's life and see my mom happy?" Harry nods, remembering the day they played What Do You Want To Do Before You Die? "I did. I changed your lives and by doing that I made my mom happy."

"I'm sorry to break it to you, Tates, but I don't think I make your mom happy," Harry says, looking down at his hands as he clenches and unclenches his fists.

"You love her," Tatum whispers, scanning the side of Harry's face.

Harry stops playing with his hands and glances up at her. He didn't think he'd been that obvious about his feelings towards Blaire.

"Yeah," he replies, grinning widely as he looks back down at his hands so she can't see the light blush creeping up on his cheeks.

Tatum smiles too and nudges him with her foot. Harry's gaze lands back on her face.

"Don't give up on her, okay?" Tatum says, her face serious as she peers at him through her long lashes.

"I won't," Harry whispers, clamping his hand onto her knee and squeezing it lightly.

Tatum smiles and then yawns before resting her head back on the pillow, her eyes drooping slightly. "Well, I better go so your mom can come see you before you fall asleep again."

Harry squeezes her knee again, his mouth set in a firm line as he stands up from the bed. His eyes scan over the tiny girl one last time as he sighs and turns around.

"Harry!" Tatum calls after him, making him freeze and look over his shoulder. "Can I have a hug?"

Harry nods, walking back to her bed and enveloping her in his long arms. She clings to him as he buries his face in her hair, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head before pulling away. He struggles to smile down at her, tears tugging at his eyes as he stands and walks over to the door.

"Harry," Tatum's small voice says just as he's about to open the door. He stops and turns to look at her.

"Yours was a hard goodbye," she whispers as a solitary tear slides down his cheek.

~

Blaire awakens from another of her regular nightmares with a shriek. The darkness of the room clings to her eyes like a shadow as she lifts her head from the mattress, pushing her sweaty hair from her face. She spots a tiny hand skimming the top of the blanket for her and Blaire reaches forward, wrapping her hand around Tatum's cold one. She uses her other one to brush the hair away from Tatum's face, hearing a groan of pain escape her lips.

"Does it hurt, baby?" she asks, immediately sitting up straight and getting a better view of her daughter.

Blaire gasps as she notices how pale Tatum's face is and is just about to call a nurse when Tatum's hand squeezes hers.

"No," she whispers. "Don't call the nurse."

"Tatum, I-"

"No, mom. I don't want them to be here. Please, I just want you," Tatum begs, her strength wavering as she loosens her grip on Blaire's wrist.

Blaire lets her hand drop, her full attention now on her daughter.

"Are you afraid?" Blaire asks, her voice cracking as a lump forms in her throat.

"No," Tatum replies, her other frail hand grabbing her mom's.

Tears pool in Blaire's eyes as she watches her lay back on the pillow.

"Tell me if it hurts, alright," Blaire whispers, tears sliding down her cheeks as Tatum nods and holds her hands tighter. "I'm right here, baby. I won't leave you."

"Te-tell me a story," Tatum mumbles, her lip quivering as a tear rolls down her thin cheek. Blaire brushes it away with the back of her hand and kisses Tatum's forehead.

"O-once there was a little girl named Tatum," Blaire begins, tears flowing steadily down her face as she gasps for breath. "She was a surprise to her mother, Blaire, who was only sixteen when she held her for the first time. She was like an angel and Blaire was touching heaven. She grew up quickly and before Blaire knew it, she wasn't the little baby she knew such a short time ago. Blaire was afraid that when Tatum grew up she would be left alone, but then tragedy struck. Tatum got sick and Blaire felt like a failure for not being able to protect her daughter from everything. But Tatum was strong, she was so strong and she fought for her life and for the people in it. And Blaire, she realized that Tatum really was an angel and she wasn't touching heaven, she was touching everyone around her."

"I love you, mom," Tatum whispers, a smile spreading on her wet cheeks.

"I love you, too, Tatum. I love you so, so much and I'll never stop," Blaire sobs, laying her head down on Tatum's stomach.

"Mom," Tatum gasps, trying to sit up in bed. Blaire notices how forced her movements seem, a look of agony on her face.

"I'm here," Blaire says, squeezing her hand and stroking her hair. "You don't have to stay for me, baby, you don't have to stay."

Her voice disappears as she purses her lips together and looks down at her daughter. Tatum's big, brown eyes train on Blaire's face and she smiles gently one more time before she flutters her eyes closed and leans further back on the pillow.

Blaire barely registers the sound of the heart monitor's steady beep piercing through the air as a desperate scream of her own bursts from her lungs. The nurses come scrambling through the door, one of them grabbing Blaire and trying to comfort her but Blaire shoves her off. She collapses onto the floor bedside the bed and clutches the covers, loud cries shaking her body as she tries to reach out to Tatum. Blaire finds her limp hand and holds it in hers, throwing her face into the mattress and screaming.

Everything inside her is on fire and she can't find the source of the flames. Her eyes are drowning in tears as she feels herself being lifted from the floor, her fists pound the chest she knows belongs to Harry but he continues to walk her out of the room and away from her baby.


	20. Chapter 20 | Ali

**Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets.**

**-Paul Tournier**

 

"Blaire. Shh, shh, shh. Blaire, look at me," Harry pleads, leaning back against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Blaire continues to thrash in his lap, loud crying shaking her tiny body as he tries to calm her down.

"Blaire, I've got you. I'm right here," Harry says, gripping onto her wrists so that she stops thumping her fists against his chest. A new course of sobs rock through her as his words tear at her insides.

 _"I'm right here, baby. I won't leave you."_ Some of the last words she spoke to Tatum echo in her mind, torturing her. Tatum is gone and nothing anyone can say will make it better, not even Harry.

An agonizing scream rips through Blaire and Harry immediately drops her wrists. She doesn't try to run though; instead she collapses into his chest and continues her gut-wrenching screams.

"Where's my baby? I want my baby!" she yells into his tear stained shirt, balling the material in her fists and allowing another wave of grief to roll through her.

Harry lets out a shaky sigh as he places a hand on her leg which she grasps into hers, squeezing it tightly. Tears force their way out of Harry's eyes as the suddenness of the moment catches up with him. Why did it have to happen tonight? Why couldn't she have a few more days? The unanswered questions continue to pound Harry as heavy tears fall down his red cheeks.

Blaire screams again, burying her face into Harry's neck and squeezing her eyes shut. The meteor that is her life has made impact and left a huge crater where Tatum used to be and no matter how hard she tries she can't find her in the rubble.

Harry doesn't know how long he sat on the floor, holding onto the only person he cares about and tried to bring her back to him. Blaire continued to scream until all that would come out was strangled cries and still, she never stopped muttering Tatum's name.

Harry's eyes are sore and puffy as he looks down at Blaire. She's cowering in his arms, still clutching onto his hand, quiet whimpering escaping her pouted, pink lips. He uses his free hand to rid her face from her unruly hair and when she sighs quietly at the comforting touch he continues to run his fingers through her hair. Leaning down, he presses a kiss on her ghostly white forehead and then moves to her ear.

"What can I do to make it go away?" he whispers, his voice rough from the crying.

She lets out a quiet whimper before glancing up at him. Her eyes are red and puffy, makeup smeared messily down her flushed cheeks. She looks lost. The warm, reassuring color of her brown eyes, dead. A shaky sigh is released through her dry lips before she whispers, "Just don't let me disappear."

"Don't worry," Harry says, holding her tighter. "I've got you."

~

The muffled sound of Blaire's feet against the carpet gives her a sense of security. Maybe she will be able to sneak by him undetected this time. The dark hallway masks her face as she blindly walks the familiar path into the living room. A small lamp is turned on next to the couch, washing her with light and making her blink her tired eyes repeatedly as she clutches onto the frame of the doorway.

She brushes her unkempt hair behind her ear as she scans the seemingly empty room. He's here, of course, he always is. Cautiously, she steps away from her hiding place and onto the cool, wooden floorboards. Her toes wriggle in discomfort before she begins her silent trip towards the door. She moves like prey, every so often stopping to glance over her shoulder as her heart thumps loudly in her ears.

When she reaches the other side of the room, she quickly slips through the doorway and into the deserted, dark entranceway. Her feet pad along the mat leading to the door, stopping only to pull on her shoes. She straightens up again and a sigh escapes her parted lips as she reaches for her purse.

"Where do you think you're going?" a raspy voice asks.

"Shit," Blaire curses, dropping her bag and turning around.

Harry is sitting on the counter, his bare feet dangling just centimeters above the floor as he watches Blaire. His green eyes are so empty they are almost a grey color and have dark circles etched beneath them.

"You didn't think I'd just let you go, did you?" he sighs.

Blaire doesn't even bother to take off her shoes as she strides into the kitchen. Her eyes are a mix of disappointment and anger as they meet his. Deep bags are illuminated in the overhead light, proving to Harry that once again she hasn't been sleeping, only crying.

"You should let me go! What's holding you back, huh? You think everything's just going to go back to normal? Well, wake up, Harry because it's not!"

"You know I can't do that. I'm in love with you, Blaire," Harry says, slipping off the counter to try and comfort her.

"I don't love you, Harry! I never have! You're just wasting your time here because I'm never going to love you back!"

"That's because you don't even try! You've done nothing but block me out ever since that night! Why can't you see that I'm trying to save this relationship?"

"Because I don't want it saved! I can't love you, Harry! I'm broken! I don't know how to love anyone anymore!"

"I'm broken, too!" he shouts, advancing on Blaire.

"No! You feel nothing compared to me! I'm her mother!"

"You think I don't know how it feels to have someone I love die? My fiancée died in a car crash!"

Blaire watches in shock as Harry's red face contorts in pain and a single tear escapes his watery eyes, plummeting towards the floor. Her heart feels heavy in her chest and her lips dry as she tries to form a sentence.

Harry backs up until he hits the counter and then he slides down onto the cracked tile. He pulls his knees up to his chest and places his face in his hands, releasing a shaky sigh. Blaire cautiously moves towards him and crouching down in front of him, she pries his hands from his face. Another tear falls just in time for Blaire to catch it with her thumb and wipe it away.

"Harry..." she says and his eyes grab hers in their pained gaze. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Harry watches her as her eyes look down at the floor and she sighs. He doesn't blame her for not knowing about the accident. He never tells anyone about it. He's afraid of being vulnerable.

Slowly, he reaches his hand out and cups her cheek. She lets out a deep breath, continuing to look at the floor as she asks, "Is she the reason you were afraid to love?"

Harry knew it was coming. Blaire's a smart girl and it didn't take her long to connect the dots but he's still uncomfortable about bringing up the memories. He gently moves his hand from her cheek to her chin, tilting her up to face him.

"Come here," he whispers and she crawls across the floor to sit across from him, her knees tucking in between his as she waits for him to continue.

"Her name was Ali. She..." he stops and chuckles humorlessly. "She was the most radiant person I've ever known. We met at a party for her older brother's twentieth birthday when I was only eighteen. She caught my eye straight away, of course. Her long, honey colored hair that reached down to her waist. Her twinkling, blue eyes dancing in the sunlight as she caught sight of me. But her smile was what really hooked me. It was incandescent, filled with confidence and mischief. She was my other half, my partner in crime. We were inseparable."

Blaire grabs for Harry's hands and he willing obliges, tracing the skin on her knuckles as he continues. "It was only a few days before our wedding when she decided last minute she needed roses for her bridesmaid's hair. She was so stubborn, insisting it was a small detail that would complete our perfect day and that she would be back in no time. I told her I'd drive but she snatched the keys from me and ran to the car. She thought it was a game. I got the call a half an hour later...she'd been hit by a drunk driver. It was so sudden, you know. One minute I was the happiest guy on Earth and then..."

Harry's voice cracks as a dry sob breaks through his lips. His head droops to the floor as he clenches his fists and tries to not break down. Blaire leans forward and wraps her arms around his chest, holding his trembling body in a tight embrace.

Blaire racks her brains but she can't remember hearing about the accident. It's horrible that she probably read about it in the paper but just forgot about it, thinking Ali was just another face that would never mean anything to her.

Harry lets out another shaky gasp before wiping the tears from his cheeks and tilting his head up to meet her eyes.

"I- I don't know what to say, Harry," Blaire whispers, brushing a fallen curl from his forehead.

"You don't have to say anything," Harry murmurs.

"But I want to," Blaire insists. "I don't want you to feel like this."

Harry looks at her, searching her eyes for false comfort but can't find any.

"Just hold me," he whispers. "And promise you'll never leave me."

Blaire nods as tears gather in her eyes again before she wraps her arms around Harry's neck and pulls him into her. He rests his head on her shoulder and hugs his arms around her waist as Blaire gently places a kiss to the base of his neck.

She doesn't know if she will be able to keep his promise but she isn't about to leave him alone, not after what he'd told her. Finally, she has learned the reason behind his fears and rude attitude. He's just like her in the way he puts up a barrier to keep people from seeing his weak side. That must be the reason he was with all of those girls and never had a solid relationship with any of them.

Then why does he treat her differently? Why didn't he cast her aside when he was done having his fun? What is so different about her, compared to all those other girls that made him fall in love?

She can't help feeling guilty as she holds him there. She can never give him the love that he is searching so desperately for. She wants to but she just isn't capable of feeling love towards someone after what happened with Jace. She is terrified of making herself vulnerable to him and his overwhelming beauty. She is afraid of leaving him one day just like Ali did.

~

Tatum's funeral is a blur to Blaire. It's almost as if she isn't even present. Acquaintance after acquaintance offer their condolences and she merely nods in return, staring off into the distance at something that isn't there.

It isn't difficult for Kennedy to pick her out in the sea of black dresses and suits. She slowly wanders through the people standing around and talking about things that shouldn't be discussed at a funeral like gas prices and tourists until she comes into Blaire's view. She watches as Blaire stares at her, a somber look on her face before she reaches her hand out and beckons for Kennedy to approach her.

Kennedy yanks off her heels and throws them to the side before rushing over, glad at her sister's acceptance of her affection after so much time spent shutting her out. Blaire opens her arms and Kennedy falls into them, clutching onto her in a breath-ceasing embrace.

"I'm so sorry for everything," Kennedy says into Blaire's shoulder. "I know I mess up a lot and I hope you never decide to stop giving me second chances."

Blaire doesn't say anything but holds her sister tighter, indicating her silent forgiveness.

"You're my little sister. I'd be stupid not to at a time like this," Blaire whispers, her voice cracking from a lack of speech.

A single tear leaks from her eye and lands on Kennedy's shoulder, soaking into the fabric. She isn't even angry about what Kennedy did anymore. Her sister was only trying to do what she thought was best and that was keeping her away from what would have only made her more upset.

"Now come with me because I have a surprise for you," Kennedy says, releasing Blaire and offering her help up.

Blaire stares at her hands, contemplating whether or not she should go along with what is probably one of her crazy ideas. Kennedy doesn't wait for Blaire to take them though. She grabs her arms and pulls her up from the chair. She pauses to scoop up her shoes before dragging Blaire off through the groups of people again.

As their walking, Blaire can't help it when her eyes land on Harry who is leaning against a table and staring at her intently. Ever since he told her about Ali, there's been a weird sense of distance between them. She feels uncomfortable under his green gaze as Kennedy continues to drag her along but doesn't look away until they disappear around a corner.

They walk along a path between the parked vehicles and over to the edge of the parking lot that's lined with trees. Blaire gives Kennedy a confused look when they stop at the edge of the pavement and stand there facing nothing.

"Kennedy-"

"Over here," Kennedy interrupts, starting off into the shelter of the trees. Blaire looks around but doesn't see anything. "Come on!"

Reluctantly, Blaire follows her into the brush, picking up the bottom of her long black dress so it doesn't get caught on the low hanging branches and brambles. They enter a clearing where a man is sitting on the ground with his back turned to them and a cage with a jumpy bird inside it. She recognizes it right away as Carlos, the bird Tatum had found injured in the forest before everything terrible happened.

The sound of footsteps alerts the man of their presence and he turns around.

"Hey," Flynn smiles, giving them a small wave.

Blaire tries to smile back but it's forced, everything is forced these days. Flynn stands up and walks over to Blaire, pulling her into a hug.

"I'm sorry, Blaire. If there was any way I could extend my condolences in a way that would make it matter to you I would," he whispers into her ear.

"It does matter," she whispers back before he pulls away, looking at her with a thousand apologies still swimming in his eyes.

He wipes away the tear that trickles down his cheek and turns to face Kennedy.

"Okay. We're here for a reason so let's get to it," he says, clapping his hands together and nodding his head at Blaire.

Kennedy walks over to the cage and crouches down in front of it, placing her fingers on the latch and looking up at Blaire.

"Do you want to do it?" she asks hesitantly.

For a moment, she stares at the bird with uncertainty. He's a link to Tatum; does she really want to get rid of him? After all, Tatum really loved caring for him, would she want her to set him free? She's already gotten rid of Hadley because she isn't functioning enough to look after herself, let alone her dog. So should she get rid of her last live connection to Tatum? There are so many questions she has and none of them will ever get answered. She will just have to get used to making these kind of decisions on her own.

Blaire shakes her head and glances down at the ground. She can't bring herself to confront the bird. Any possession of Tatum's has been a struggle for her. Even just a stuffed animal lying around the apartment or a drawing on the refrigerator makes her burst into tears. The memories trapped in these objects are still too fresh for her to face.

Kennedy sighs and reaches for the lock again, pinching it together and opening the door. Flynn's arm snakes around Blaire's waist but the feeling is alien to her. Nothing about it brings the warm, comforting touch that Harry does and Blaire finds herself turning around like she expects him to come walking through the trees and yell at Flynn for putting his hands on her but she knows he's back at the church, unaware of her disappearance.

Blaire doesn't say anything while she watches the bird jump from the cage and fly up into the trees. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know what words to say. All that she can think about is if Tatum is in a better place than this.


	21. Chapter 21 | No Strings

**Anybody can become angry- that is easy, but to be angry with the right person and to the right degree and at the right time and for the right purpose, and in the right way- that is not within everybody's power and is not easy.**

**_-_ Alice LaPlante, _A Circle of Wives_**

 

The soft rock song is thumping through the speakers as Blaire rolls her head back on the pillow and closes her eyes.  The blinds are drawn so that it will make it easier to sleep but she already knows it will only make her dread having to see daylight again.  She breathes in deeply but the suffocating feeling in her lungs is floating back up again.  She can't breathe. 

The memories are flying at her as the storm brews inside her, tears clinging to her eyes as she threatens to let go.  She starts gasping for air as the grief consumes her, throwing her around in the sheets as she buries her face into the pillow and screams.  Hot tears leave glistening streaks down her cheeks as she clenches her chest, trying to muffle her sobs so that Kennedy who's making dinner won't hear her over the music. 

Stars burst in front of her eyes as she squeezes them shut in an attempt to block out the world.  Is this what it's like to be dead?  She pushes the thought from her mind immediately.  There are no stars in the unknown. 

But is there no pain after death or is the pain worse?  She imagines a dark corridor where she keeps running towards the end but never gets any closer.  She's never able to escape her own maze and reach sanity, so why should she be able to in death?

Blaire jolts up in the bed, sending her pillow tumbling to the floor as she dries her face on the blanket.  The heavy feeling in her chest doesn't lift though and she feels it dragging her down all the way to the dresser where she pulls open the drawer and rummages through it until she finds the small golden locket.  She fumbles it open as fresh tears rolls down her cheeks and she bites down on her lip to silence the whimpers on the tip of her tongue. 

The locket clicks open and the collection of photos pour out, leaving a train down to the floor.  She blinks away the tears as she picks them up and her eyes study the faces before her.  Her face contorts with pain as she examines the photo of her and Tatum hugging in front of the elephant statue once again.  The lump in her throat refuses to move as she begins to tuck them back in, stopping to take one last look at Tatum's smiling, healthy and very alive face and freezing. 

How could she not have seen it before?  She squints her eyes and her heart plummets in her chest when Jace's face becomes clear in the background.  He's standing partly hidden behind a sign with a cigarette pinched between his fingers.  His gaze is fixated on Blaire and Tatum as they get their photograph snapped by her mother. 

Was he there that entire time, watching them?   If he was, how did she not notice him after that?  What if he followed them other places without anyone noticing?

Blaire shivers at the thought as she drops the locket back in the drawer and pushes it closed.  Is she really that oblivious to what goes on around her?  He had found them once, was it because he never really left? 

 _'I told you.  I'll know what I want to know.'_ Jace had informed her that he was capable of finding out the things she had tried so desperately to keep from his reach so what was to stop him from going to extreme measures to get to her?

Through the silence comes a soft knock on the door followed by Kennedy's voice.  "Blaire, dinner's on the table!"

"I'm not hungry!" Blaire calls back, stumbling over to the bed and quickly crawling back under the blankets. 

She doesn't want Kennedy to know she's been out of bed so it will be easier to convince her she's not feeling well. 

A few seconds later, the door creaks open and Kennedy's head appears. 

"Blaire, I'm not falling for this again so come and eat," she says when she finds Blaire lying under the covers with only her head peeking out.

"Ken, I really am tired and I just need to sleep.  I'll come and eat when I wake up," Blaire insists, rolling over onto her side and pulling the covers up higher so Kennedy can't see her face. 

Kennedy sighs and grasps onto the edge of the door.  "Blaire..."

"Really, it'll be okay.  I'll be fine.  It's not like I'm starving myself," Blaire says and she immediately wants to cover her mouth. 

Skipping meals is a sign of depression but she isn't depressed.  She's merely grieving and just because she hasn't eaten all day and has been picking through her food all week doesn't mean she's on the brink of a breakdown.  She's only grieving.

A silence drapes over them as they both put her words into thought.  Kennedy opens her mouth to say something but then pauses. 

"I'll wrap some up for you.  It will be in the fridge when you want it," she says, studying Blaire before slipping behind the door and letting it click shut. 

Blaire is alone again and the thoughts are already beginning to swim in her head.  The terror that Jace brings her is unexplainable.  The word terror doesn't even sum up the way she feels about how Jace had abused her.  Just thinking about all the times he raised his hand and left marks of hatred on her skin makes her want to cower away under the covers and never come out. 

She feels frantic as she imagines his hand on her shoulder, breathing down her neck as he whispered 'I love you," and then shoved her into the dresser.  She remembers hitting her head and suffering from bruising and what the doctor told her was 'one blow away from a concussion'.  Tears slip from her eyes as she remembers the reason for that beating.  It was the time she told him she was pregnant with Tatum. 

It was after day that she finally had the strength to tell Kennedy about Jace abusing her and from there they went to the police and filed a restraining order.  Jace was furious when the police showed up at their door the next morning and ordered him to pack his things.  Blaire remembers the way he watched her from his car, his eyes a sea of black and his lips set in a firm line before he drove away for what she thought was the last time she would ever have to see him.

The amount of times he told her he loved her and then gave her beating were countless.  He never loved her.  He only loved the idea of having her be 'his property'.  She remembers the way he would walk around the hallways at school, bragging to his friends about how he was her boyfriend and threatening anyone who laid eyes on her that it would be the last thing they saw.  He was so possessive and it drove her crazy but she was too afraid to do anything about it, knowing that anytime she tried to bring it up, Jace would get angry and break something. 

When she met him the first time, she was insecure and vulnerable and that's why he had such an overpowering effect on her.  She's insecure and vulnerable again now so what's to stop him from coming back?  He's already proved that he's not afraid to break the restraining order so what if he does it again?

The ringing of Blaire's phone breaks through her thoughts and she reaches over to the table next to her bed, grabbing the phone and switching it on.  Harry's name flashes across the screen in bright, red letters and she quickly presses the end button.  The ringing ceases and she sighs, setting the phone down in her blankets. 

She can't talk to Harry right now, just hearing his voice would bring everything back.  That night in the hospital hallway when he was holding her as she screamed in his arms and all the times he spent sleeping on her couch she acted so distant towards him.  And she knows that she's hurting him by ignoring him every time he calls or comes to visit. 

Almost every day he would come to her apartment and bang on the door to point that she thought he was going to knock it down just to get to her.  She would ignore him, keeping her music blasted and crying silently on her bed until he gave up and went home.

Her phone buzzes again, this time it's a text message from Harry. 

_Blaire, I know you're grieving and I understand what it feels like to lose someone but please don't make this a reason to block me out of your life.  I want you to know that I'm here for you whenever you're ready to talk._

Blaire drops the phone onto her stomach and lies back on the pillow.  Is she trying to block him out of her life?  Isn't that what she usually does to people and if so, why is he so surprised that she is? 

She wants to talk to him, she really does, but at the same time she's worried that he will think she wants him back in her life.  She's grieving, he's right about that and she needs to spend this time alone.  It's bad enough with Kennedy always hanging around, ready to sweep down on her at the slightest sign of tears.  But will Harry be the same as Kennedy?  He's been through this before, maybe he'll give her more space and support than Kennedy does. 

She picks up the phone and sets it down again, second guessing herself.  Should she let him come over or should she just continue blocking him out like she's done so many times before? 

She bites her lip and picks up the phone again, quickly typing a reply.

_I'm ready to talk._

She doesn't even have time to set her phone down before he replies.

_Great.  I'll pick you up tomorrow at 2._

~

The hallway feels never ending as Blaire walks back to her room with Harry trailing solemnly a few steps behind her.  The grief is building up in her like a cloud sagging with rain and she knows she can't hold it back much longer. 

Harry's footsteps drag on the carpet as he picks up his pace and reaches for her arm.  His long fingers press into her skin as he tries to slow her down but she yanks her wrist from his grip.  She can't cry in front of him, not again.

"Blaire," he says and then stops, surveying her hurt face as she stops and turns around. 

A single tear drops from her eyelashes and hits her cheek before she turns away from him and walks towards the wall.

"Why couldn't I do anything?" she sobs, sliding down to the floor and slowly leaning the back of her head against the wall. 

Harry walks over and sits down next to her, staring at his long legs splayed out in front of him.  He clears his throat and runs his fingers through his messy curls, attempting to rid himself of the lump constricting and cutting off his ability to speak.

 "You're only human, Blaire, and you did everything you could.  That's all she ever asked for.  She wouldn't want to see you like this.  She would want you to be happy," he replies in a raspy, thick voice.

She looks at him with glistening eyes and tear covered cheeks, shining in the dim light.  "How am I supposed to be happy when every time I think about her my heart gets ripped out of my chest?" she cries, holding a hand over her heart before she clenches her fist and drops it onto her lap. 

Harry reaches for it tentatively and laces his fingers through hers.  She slowly leans against him, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I don't know," he says.  "But the one thing I've learned from this kind of thing is that you can't just sit back and watch your life dwindle away from the sidelines.  You have to continue living it.  Tatum lived hers, even though it was so short.  She realized how precious and delicate it is and she never wanted to waste a moment.  You have to learn from her.  Don't let the memory of her drown in your grief.  Don't lose her."

"I've already lost her!" Blaire exclaims, jumping up suddenly and storming over to the opposite wall. 

She presses her palms against it and releases a shaky sigh.  Harry just doesn't understand. 

"I want to be with her.  She's all I had left," Blaire continues as Harry watches her slumped figure start to shake with sobs again.

"You have me," Harry mumbles in a quiet voice.

Blaire stiffens slightly and turns around to face him. 

"What?" she asks.

"I said, you're not alone.  You have me," he repeats.

The light in her eyes retreats momentarily and then flares up again as she looks down at him. 

"You?  You are nothing compared to Tatum!  You're just some guy that doesn't know how to take no for an answer and likes to fuck up people's lives that are already fucked up in the first place!" she snaps, pointing an angry finger at him. 

He tries to stop her but is too shocked to think of something to say that will calm her down. 

"And if you think I cared about you and your little sob story you've never been more wrong!  I had enough to care about without you showing up and ruining everything!" Blaire finishes with a huff of anger and wipes away some newly formed tears before rushing towards the door.

Something seems to click in Harry's mind and he jumps up off the floor and runs after her. 

"Blaire!" he yells but she continues to storm away, ignoring him. 

"Hey!  Don't do this!" he calls after her. 

This time she looks over her shoulder at him. 

"Leave me alone, Harry.  We're done," she spats and turns her head quickly to hide the tears that are spilling down her cheeks but not before Harry notices. 

He stands in the hallway, completely motionless as she sweeps away like a hurricane of grief and anger.  She doesn't even look back when she reaches her room and he watches on until she slips from his view and slams the door shut behind her.

He should have gone after her.  He should have tried harder to talk her out of it.  Isn't she worth fighting for?  Something tells him that he lost the Blaire he fell in love with a long time ago. 

Despite the fact he knows she won't come running back to him, apologizing for everything and telling him she really does care, Harry remains standing there until he can't take it anymore.

He turns around and slowly begins walking back towards the stairs.  He can't help but feel like every step he takes, he's shedding another memory he spent with Blaire.  From the time after their first date when she refused to kiss him to the fight that is still fresh in his mind.  So many times he's walked along this hallway with his heart racing at the thought of getting to see Blaire.  He doesn't want the last time to be stained with a heavy heart.

It's grief talking, Harry assures himself as he starts walking down the stairs, it has to be.  Yet, he still can't brush off the feeling of uncertainty that's slowly creeping up on him.  Maybe Blaire really never cared about him.  Has he ever paused to consider it? 

She never had told him that she loved him when he told her or any of the times after that.  He's always brushed it off, thinking that maybe she was waiting for the right time or didn't know how to say it, but maybe the reason she never said it is because she never did.

The warm night air covers him like a blanket when he steps out into the clear, star dotted night but the coldness inside him still doesn't lift.  He hurries to his car and jerks the door open so fast the whole body of the car shakes.  He fumbles for the keys buried in his pocket and starts the engine, slamming the door shut and sending the car quaking again.  He angrily adjusts the mirror that he had knocked off course and slams his foot on the gas.  The sound of peeling tires fills the parking lot as he speeds off along the nearly deserted street. 

The people in the cars on either side of him seem to sense his determination and move out of his way as he drives along the highway.  The wind coming through the open window sends his hair blowing in his face and it makes him think of all the times Blaire was there to brush it out of his eyes.  Just thinking of her touch causes a burning sensation in his stomach.  How could he be so stupid?

He hits the steering wheel with his hands so hard that he momentarily loses control of the car, swerving into the other lane.  The jolt as he returns it to the proper lane brings a sense of reality with it.  Ali died in a car crash.  Tatum died from cancer.  Why is it as if he's surrounded by corpses?  Why does everything good in his life have to die?  What if the next person to die is Blaire?

The thought makes him slam on the brakes.  Luckily, there is nothing behind him other than a few new tire marks.  He's thrown into the steering wheel and he gasps when his chest bounces off the center of it, momentarily dazing him.  He raises his shaking hands and grasps the wheel until his knuckles turn white.  Gently prodding the gas pedal with his toe, he pulls the car over to the side of the road. 

Once the engine comes to a halt, he unlocks the door and steps outside, letting the numbness spread through him as he tries to figure out where he went wrong.  He can remember the day he first saw Blaire without even trying.  Her beautiful face was peeking out from underneath her hood that she so carefully took refuge in.  He can remember the way her lips parted open when she noticed him looking at her, almost as if she was shocked.  And he recalls how she couldn't look away.  Even after they passed each other, he caught her looking back. 

Ever since that day, he was unable to get her out of his mind.  It was almost as if whenever he saw another girl, her face was dull compared to Blaire's beauty.  He had wanted Blaire desperately.  He had wanted to feel her hands on his face as she kissed him and feel the comfort of her tiny body curled up next to him as he slept.  He should have given up on her the moment she first fought against him.  He should have trusted his instincts. 

He also remembers the first time she kissed him and how hard she had tried to resist him, even afterwards.  That's what kept him coming back.  Her intense stubbornness had a major contrast with anything he'd ever experienced before.  Usually girls were ecstatic to hear that he wanted to spend a night with them, but Blaire was different. 

She never threw herself at him; he was always challenged with her resistance.  He loves that about her.  He loves her.  Why does she have to do this?  Why does she have to go back on all their progress?

Harry shoves the keys back in his pocket and steps away from the car into the long grass.  An old barn is visible in the distance but other than that the field is empty.  He glances up at the sky and bites his lip.  The stars shining down on him are just another reminder of her. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fists.  The anger surging through him is overpowering.  His arms start to shake as he clenches his fists tighter in an attempt to control them.  He can feel his face turning red as he holds his breath before letting his eyes fly open again.

"I love her!" he shouts up at the sky. 

The sound of his voice echoing off the distance hill only makes the anger sear up in him again.  He spins around and storms back to the car, pushing against the metal and cursing.  He's so angry he doesn't even notice when the hot tears begin sliding down his face. 

Harry clenches his teeth at the same time his clenches his fist, pulling it back and smashing it against the window.  The glass cracks under the impact and unable to feel the pain, he retracts and throws another punch.  A few chunks of glass fall away onto the ground and blood spills from his knuckles, down his arm.  He takes a sharp breath and grunts before throwing one last punch and watching his fist burst through the window. 

The glass bites at his exposed skin, cutting deeper into his knuckles.  The adrenaline begins to fade and in its place comes pain.  The stinging sensation in his hand would have blinded him if it wasn't for the newfound anger pulsing through him.

What if he is wrong about Blaire?  What if she is like all the other girls that only wanted him for the pleasure and protection he could provide them with? 

No, Blaire isn't like them, he thinks, shaking his head.  She _is_ different.  She is complex and difficult and beautiful and she makes him so irritated all the time but that is why he loves her.  So how is he supposed just ignore the fact that she could be standing right in front of him but never be in his reach?

Harry frowns and clenches his fists tighter, watching the blood flow faster from his wounded hand.  This is the reason he never falls in love.  He doesn't want to let someone control his emotions and make him aware of his feelings.  He wants to be tough and intimidating so that he won't let himself fall for anyone. 

Love is for people that like setting themselves up for disaster, not for someone like him that doesn't want any strings holding him down.  He likes to be able to move and flourish in all the wonders that come his way and love is like a trap.  Almost like a maze that you can never find your way out of.  One that leaves you constantly bumping into dead ends and narrow paths that slowly wear you down until your left broken and helpless with no one but yourself to blame. 

Harry knows that Blaire doesn't love him back and probably never will but he let himself be fooled into believing he wouldn't end up hurt.  He's never known what it's like to love someone who doesn't have equal feelings and it makes him so angry. 

And the worst part is he doesn't know how to change Blaire's mind about him now that she is so frozen to the idea of communicating with him.  He doesn't know if it's worth it to try with the consequence of getting even more hurt looming over him.  Maybe it's better to let himself heal first and then decide if she's what he really wants.

Using his good hand, Harry reaches down and opens the door to the car before climbing inside.  He opens the compartment on the passenger side and digs through the papers and CDs for a first aid kit.  The best thing he finds is one of his old t-shirts which he wraps tightly around his still bleeding hand.  A whimper escapes his lips when the rough fabric meets the open wound as he adjusts the makeshift bandage.  He was stupid for punching the window.  He was sure he would have a permanent reminder of this night etched upon his knuckles and the thought does little to lift the weight of the fight off his shoulders. 

He starts the engine and glances in the mirror.  There is a slight puffiness to his eyes from the angry tears he had cried and there is some blood smeared on his cheek but that isn't the difference he notices in his reflection.  There is something in his eyes that is confusing him, something foreign.  A flicker of despair that he hasn't seen since after Ali was swept so brutally from his life is now present again in his watery, emerald green eyes. 

As he looks away and pulls out onto the road there's a sense of second guessing that sends his fingertips of his good hand hammering in an anxious, rhythmic pattern against the wheel.  He had gotten through this before, hadn't he?  When Ali died, he was down for a long time but eventually he was himself again, maybe even better than his old self.  He was stronger.  Less could touch him.  He was free to float.  He will get over Blaire, he assures himself, maybe not now, but eventually.  Besides, he doesn't know if it's even worth it, letting himself become vulnerable for her again.


	22. Chapter 22 | A Killer?

**He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for too long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.**

**-Friedrich Nietzsche**

 

_"I can't believe you did that!" he chokes out between waves of laughter._

_"Me neither," Blaire admits and then the realization of what she did hits her and she doubles over in laughter._

_Blaire being reckless on her on terms? What is happening to her? She has to admit though, it does feel pretty good and the man's reaction was priceless._

_Blaire wipes the tears from her eyes as the laughter subsides but Harry is still going on as if he's never going to stop. Blaire admires the way his eyes crinkle and his dimples carve deeply into his cheeks as he enters another round of loud laughter._

_"I love you," he says through outbursts of laughter. Just like that it tumbles out of his mouth and just like that his laughter ceases, a look of surprise on his face as he stares down at her._

Blaire feels tears gathering in her eyes as she stops abruptly in the middle of the hallway on the ninth floor of Impressions. She gasps and stumbles forwards when somebody that was walking behind her bumps into her. A young man stoops to pick up the phone that has been cast from his hands and then stands up straight again.

"I'm so sorry," he apologizes, his eyes widening and setting on her face when he realizes how beautiful she is.

"It's alright," Blaire says quickly and brushes past him, leaving him to stare at her dumbfounded until she disappears around the corner.

Blaire dashes down the hallway towards the elevator, her lip quivering as she brushes away a tear she didn't know had fallen. The area in front of the elevator is vacant as she presses the button and runs her hands shakily down her face.

" _I love you."_

The words repeat in her mind as she impatiently waits for the elevator. Why does he have to love her? Why couldn't he have just given up on her like everyone else did? It would be so much easier to get over him if he had. She had been drunk on him and now she has a hangover. Except this isn't as easy to cure as a regular hangover. No amount of sleep or pills can make her forget. Even in her in dreams he haunts her.

Every night, her dreams would distort into the same one. She would be back in the crowd in Venice as Harry dragged her along, clutching tightly onto her arm. Then a blank faced man would grab her from behind and Harry would slip from her grip, continuing obliviously on his way as she screamed his name.

So how does someone get over a person they never even loved? The question makes her think of Kennedy and how she would lose her mind over every guy she was with but never actually fall in love. Of course, she's always crushed when they dump her and refuses to talk to anyone but Blaire for a few days but she gets over them. One particular time, she had used another man's love to take her mind off things and get revenge. Parker.

The name causes something in Blaire's mind to click into place. Is that the answer to all her problems? Parker?

The elevator dings and the shiny, metal doors slide open. Blaire hesitates before stepping inside and pressing the ground floor button. The air feels stuffy as the doors seal shut and Blaire looks down at her intertwined fingers. No, she can't stoop to her sister's level. Besides, it's Parker. She hates Parker. But maybe he will act differently towards her if she does this for him. What if he never bothers her again?

The elevator slows and comes to a stop. The doors open and people pile in, pushing her towards the back as she continues to think. Blaire remembers the way her sister acted so proud when she told her how she got revenge on Matt. Will Blaire feel that way about Harry if she does it? Will she feel proud of herself for making him suffer?

The elevator comes to a shuddering stop on the lobby floor and the people in the elevator begin piling out as Blaire makes up her mind. She winces as she jabs the floor nine button and hears the doors seal shut again before the elevator begins moving upwards. Her heart thumps in her throat as she stares at her distorted reflection and waits for the elevator to stop.

The faint ding sounds and the doors slide open as she walks out into the deserted hall. She reaches her office floor quickly and bursts through the door. Her feet carry her to a door with _Parker Sterling, Head of Business_ written on a thin golden plaque. She lifts her fist but stops for a moment, retracting slightly before taking a deep breath and knocking.

The sound of a wheeled chair squeaking and feet shuffling on the carpet makes Blaire's heart pound. She can just make out Parker's blurry figure behind the transparent door as he unlocks it and swings it open. His mouth opens in surprise when he sees her before it changes into his signature grin.

"Miss me already, Blaire?" he asks in a taunting tone, tilting his head to the side. His brown eyes twinkling along with his smile.

"No, I- I," Blaire's voice trails off and Parker looks at her curiously before opening the door wider and motioning for her to come inside.

She shyly accepts and walks over to his desk where she sits and tries to figure out how to put her request into words. She hasn't done anything so forward before and feels inexperienced and insecure under his dominant gaze. How did Kennedy ever do this? Right, because she's done it a thousand times before, Blaire reminds herself while she tries to get rid of her tied tongue.

"So, what do I owe this very beautiful pleasure?" Parker smiles, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"I need something," Blaire spits out. "Like...like...a favor."

"A favor?" Parker repeats, raising his eyebrows. "How are you planning on convincing me to cooperate in this little favor?"

"I think you'll be very willing to participate," Blaire says, already feeling the confidence building up in her.

"Alright, enlighten me, Carter," he says, giving her that same crooked smirk. He really is handsome, Blaire thinks, if only he wasn't so toxic.

"Remember that time I came in to work late and you tried to make a compromise with me?" Blaire asks and Parker nods, leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk. "I think I'm ready to take you up on that offer."

"What about Harry?"

"Don't worry about him. We're no longer together," Blaire answers, unable to ignore the pang in her chest at the sound of his name.

"Did your sister send you here? Because I'm not just to be used as a distraction to heal broken hearts."

"No," she lies. "Why does it matter, anyways? You've been trying to get with me for years."

"Trust me, Blaire. I'm not going to deny you the pleasure of my company. I'm just wondering what's behind the sudden change of heart?"

"I don't know. I guess I just kept thinking about all the times you've told me that you could show me a whole new world and well, I guess I've just got tired of living in my old one."

"That's music to my ears," Parker smiles and stands up from the desk.

In a couple strides he reaches her, placing his hands on her sides and lifting her onto the top of the desk. Loose papers crinkle under her and pens go scattering to the floor. Parker forces her legs open in one brief pull and stands between them. His face comes level with hers, his lips hovering so close to hers that she can only breathe the smell of his sweet breath.

Blaire gasps as his hands reach up to grasp her breasts, gently massaging them in his soft hands. The touch is intimate but nowhere near as explosive as when Harry touches her. She misses the playful giggles and gentle kisses that she shared with him in such intimate moments. Parker is rough and emotionless, he only cares about getting it over with as fast as possible. There is no love here.

An unwelcome moan slips from Blaire's tightly closed lips and Parker grins in satisfaction before removing his hands from her breasts. One tangles in her hair, the other slithers around her waist so that he can pull her closer. Their breathing mingles in the tight embrace and Blaire feels her head beginning to spin. What is she doing?

She places a hand firmly on Parker's chest and his face moves back, eyebrow arched in confusion. Blaire stares at him but doesn't see him. Instead, she sees Harry on that last day she spent with him. She remembers thinking the whole time that things weren't the same between them.

There was a silence, quite unlike the comfortable one they used to share, that draped over them and left all their conversations feeling cold and strained. There were no butterflies and no goose bumps that Blaire had so often associated with Harry's presence. It was as if they had already lost each other before they had realized it.

Blaire remembers the ripping feeling that spread through her when she realized that all Harry had ever been was a distraction. She had used him to get away from her sister's unending attempts to get her a boyfriend, the effect that Tatum's disease was having on her, and the threat of Jace constantly looming over them.

But he was also a distraction in the last few weeks she had with Tatum. He'd taken her away and fallen in love with her, something that she'd never intended upon anyone. She missed out on so much and it was all his fault. She hates him for that.

"Hey," Parker says and Blaire blinks at him, surprised to find him there and then realizing what's going on. "You alright?"

Blaire stares at him, her lips parted slightly as she thinks about how protective Harry was over her. He would never have let any male as close to her as Parker is right now. The thought makes an excited sensation bubble up in her stomach. There's no way he can stop her now.

She leans forward and plants her lips on Parker's. His eyes shoot open in surprise as Blaire snatches his bottom lip between her teeth and tugs on it playfully. Her hands grasps at his hair as she scrambles to bring him closer and he obliges, pressing their heated bodies together.

Parker puts a hand on her shoulder and forces her down onto the table where he breaks the kiss, hovering over her. Her hands trace down from his chest to his stomach, making the skin underneath his shirt tingle. She traces all the way back up and begins unbuttoning his shirt, her fingers fumbling as she bites down on her lip in concentration. Eventually, she reaches the last button and looks up to appreciate the newly exposed skin. His torso is tanned and toned but nothing like Harry's which was covered in ink and long enough to accompany Blaire's entire upper body when she would lie on him.

She reaches up to touch Parker and traces her thin fingers over the ridges of his abdomen muscles, feeling the heat radiating off him at her fingertips. He lifts his arms and rips the shirt from his body as he comes back down on her, overlapping her lips in a needy kiss.

As his lips work against hers, he puts his hands to work by grabbing the fabric of Blaire's top and slowly pulling it up. She flinches when his hands touch her bare stomach but then relaxes again as he stands up and pulls the shirt over her head, tossing it into the corner. His hands find her breasts again, squeezing them and making her moan loudly.

He hovers over her again and nudges her head to the side so that he has access to her neck. He brushes her hair out of the way and nibbles at the skin above her collarbone. She shudders underneath him and he presses his lips to the soft skin, using his tongue to leave wet kisses all around her neck and collarbone.

He lowers himself down over her so that their stomachs touch but not so that he lays all his weight on her. The heat in the room seems to increase as their bodies begin to move against each other. Blaire closes her thighs and arches her back, pressing them even closer together as a wave of pleasure and anticipation rolls through her. She whimpers when he ceases his movement and places his mouth next to her ear.

"I think you're ready," he says lowly and his hands move down to unfasten her belt buckle.

~

The clock ticking on the wall matches the sound of Flynn's ballpoint pen that he's holding upside down and clicking against the blank page of his notebook. He reaches up with his free hand and ruffles his messy, blond hair out of his eyes. Why does she have to always confide these kind of things in him? He can clearly remember the first time was when she told him she skipped her sister's Christmas party to drink at home by herself. After that the stories started to get more colourful, the secrets, unbearable. This just happens to be another one of those times.

Another two minutes have passed since the last time his eyes wandered over to the clock. He should be finishing designing the storyboard for the new Impressions advertisement but he can't get his mind away from what Blaire has told him. He keeps replaying the moment in his mind but can't decipher what her reasoning behind doing it was.

_"Flynn?" Blaire whispers from the corner of his desk where he is searching through some new jingles on his computer._

_He looks up, surprised to see the glow in her eyes that has been missing since she returned from her trip._

_"Flynn, can I tell you something?"_

_As soon as he hears those words, his heart sinks slightly in his chest. Is that all he is to Blaire? Someone to hold onto the things she can't bear to keep locked inside her head, driving her crazy?_

_"Yeah," he says, scratching the back of his head and giving her a forced grin._

_"I know this is crazy, but I slept with Parker!" she blurts out, covering her mouth immediately afterwards and looking at him anxiously._

_Flynn can't speak. The ability to make words seems a foreign thought as he sits there with his mouth gaping open, staring at the girl in front of him like he doesn't even recognize her._

_"I know. I know. I just didn't know what else to do. I was so lost when it came to getting over Harry and it was the first idea that popped into my head," she rambles, holding her hand to her forehead, her face all scrunched up in disgust. "Holy shit, Flynn. What did I do?"_

_"I-I don't know, Blaire. I think you might have gone too far this time," Flynn stammers, looking just as desperate as her to have those words taken back._

_"Shit," she repeats, turning around while wringing her hands and then spinning back to face Flynn. "Flynn, you can't tell Harry about this!"_

_"Wait, why would you think I would do that?"_

_"Because you and I both know you always want to do what's right, no matter what the consequences are. If you tell him, he'll kill Parker. He won't even listen to you when you tell him it was my idea. He's too protective," Blaire explains, leaning over the desk only inches from Flynn's face. Her pretty, brown eyes dancing threateningly as she pulls away._

She's right; Flynn is having a difficult time not telling Harry what happened. The fact that it was Parker is driving him crazy. Why did she choose Parker? Out of all the guys she knew, why him? That's the worst part of it. Blaire always leaves him with a lack of explanation when she does something like this. Doesn't he deserve to know? He is her best friend, after all. Why does she insist on keeping her life so private?

He glances at the clock again and only five minutes have gone by. Is the drag on time a sign for him to do something before this backfires on Blaire? He knows that her and Harry broke up but if Harry finds out from someone else what happened, he will never forgive her.

Flynn drops his pen and watches it roll to the top of the desk and back towards him. The paper in front of him still lies blank and his mind isn't any better off. He can't get any work done like this. The secret is eating him alive. He needs to tell Harry. Blaire doesn't know what she's talking about. He knows she will benefit in the long run from this.

He stands up from the chair, ruffling his hair and scanning the office for any sign of Blaire. If she sees him, she might intercept and then everything will be ruined. After he's positive he can't see her long, brown hair bobbing in the many cubicles, he sets off walking towards the door. He slips through unnoticed and continues on his way to the elevator. Once he reaches it, he quickly presses the number for Harry's floor and begins moving downwards.

He shakes the guilty feeling off his shoulders as he steps out of the elevator and walks along the hallway until he reaches the large glass doors at the end. There are a few people visible through them typing on computers and discussing topics with their co-workers. He pushes the door open and walks inside, immediately starting to search cubicles for the familiar head of curls.

Flynn finds Harry in middle of the room, right next to the ceiling-to-floor window. He's sitting in his chair with his feet on the desk, swiveling back and forth. As Flynn approaches, the shock of what he sees makes him stop.

Harry looks horrible. His hair is unruly, looking like he's been running his fingers through it several times. His green eyes are glazed over and tired when Harry looks up at him and Flynn knows he hasn't slept well since that night.

"Flynn?" Harry asks in a croaky voice.

His face is puzzled as he sits up in his chair, letting his feet fall to the floor.

"Hey," Flynn says, smiling down at him sympathetically.

The silence that follows is tense. Flynn and Harry aren't exactly close, their only connection being Blaire and now even that is severed.

"What do you want?" Harry's tone is hostile as he places his hands on the desk, all former pain gone from his eyes and replaced with fury. Flynn doesn't blame him. He probably thinks he's coming to talk to him about Blaire.

"I wanted to tell you something. A-about...about Blaire," Flynn flinches when he says her name.

Harry seems to perk up when he hears it but then a frown settles on his face.

"What happens to Blaire isn't my concern anymore. She's made that quite clear," Harry forces out, not looking at Flynn but instead at the _Welcome to Australia!_ keychain hanging off the corner of his computer.

"Harry, she didn't send me here. She didn't want you to know but I have to-"

"She didn't want me to know what?" he demands, staring up at Flynn with a look of anger on his face. "What happened to her?"

Harry is standing now, towering over Flynn as he anxiously waits for his answer. Flynn's eyes widen and he steps back a bit. "She was mad at you for what you did and all I know is that she was desperate for a way to vent."

"What did she do? Spit it out!" Harry roars as he advances on Flynn again, his eyes holding him in an intimidating stare.

Everyone who had been working and conversing is turned to them now, afraid that they might miss out on a fight.

"She slept with Parker," Flynn says, squinting up at Harry whose face is contorting with rage.

Flynn opens his mouth to say something but Harry pushes past him, past all the people still gawking at the two of them as he storms from the office.

The anger boils in him as he strides down the hallway, passing the elevator. He doesn't have the patience to wait. He takes the stairs two at a time, grasping the railing underneath his clenched fist. Blaire is his girl and no one is allowed to touch her, especially not someone as slimy and cowardly as Parker.

Before he realizes it, he's bursting through the door into the office, ignoring all the looks of shock he receives as he shoves his way to the back of the room. He's glad he doesn't encounter Blaire because he's sure she would've tried to stop him and caused a scene.

The glinting, gold plate catches his eye as he walks towards Parker's door. He resists kicking the door open and reaches out for the handle, twisting it and barging inside. He shuts the door behind him and spins to see Parker sitting in his desk, staring at him in shock.

"Harry," he says. "What are you doing here?"

Harry ignores his question and storms over to the desk. He reaches out his uninjured hand and grasps the collar of Parker's shirt, jerking him upwards and making him wince.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. If you just let go, we can talk about this," Parker says.

"Try talking after I smash your face in," Harry growls, pulling back his arm, the muscles becoming taut as he clenches his fist.

Parker tries to pull away but Harry's grip is too strong and all he can do is open his mouth to yell before Harry's fist makes contact with it, cutting off his ability to speak as blood pours down from his lip. Harry retracts, making quick hits to his stomach and making Parker clench his bloodied teeth together as groans slip through his lips.

"You're...a...fucking...worthless...piece...of...shit!" Harry yells, emphasizing each word with a punch to his face and stomach.

Parker falls back in his chair, shuddering breaths through the moments that they are not knocked out of him. The only thing that's keeping him sitting is the vice-like grip Harry has on his blood stained collar.

"P-please," Parker gasps, coughing out the blood that has poured into his mouth from his nose.

The only thing he can see is Harry's furious face as he throws another punch into his gut. Harry pulls his fist back, ready to strike again when something changes in his eyes. The anger seems to retreat and realization hits.

He's going to kill Parker if he doesn't stop. Slowly, his grip on Parker releases and he watches him slump and slide into a wheezing heap on the floor. Harry lifts his fists and wipes the blood onto his already splattered shirt. He walks over to Parker and bends down over him. Parker looks up at him with bloodshot eyes, terror racking his whole body.

"Don't you ever touch her again," Harry spats, straightening up and leaving the room.

He feels a wet substance running down his fingers and looks down to see that his stitches have opened. Cursing, he dashes back through the office, receiving worried and scared looks from everyone there, but no one tries to stop him.

He rushes down the hallway, his blood still boiling as his heart thumps rhythmically against his chest. His muscles seem constricted and he can't unclench his fists. He almost just killed a man. The thought makes his stomach roll and his face whiten. A wave of nausea threatens to make him sick but he holds it down, choking on his own bile.

He staggers over to the wall and leans against it, trying to steady the spinning of his head. The picture of Parker lying bloody on the floor is imprinted in his brain. He presses his fingers against his temple and sighs shakily, squeezing his eyelids shut and resisting the urge to scream. He still needs to punch something, anything that will take the pain and regret away.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Blaire's shrill tone comes ringing through the silence.

"Me? What the fuck are you doing screwing around with Parker? Are you trying to get back at me or something?" Harry retaliates, pushing off the wall and storming towards Blaire.

Blaire glares up at his towering figure and shouts, "What if I am? You have no say in what I do anymore so stop trying to ruin everything!"

"I'm not ruining anything! You've already ruined us! What else is there left to ruin?" Harry roars, throwing his hands up into the air and making Blaire flinch.

"You've been ruining everything ever since we met! Even after I told you to stay away! Why couldn't you have just listened to me?" Blaire yells, angry tears collecting in her eyes as her whole body trembles.

"Because I cared about you, Blaire! Even though you never gave a shit about me, it never stopped me from giving a shit about you!"

"How could I give a shit about you when you're just like Jace?"

"I'm nothing like that filthy, violent-"

"Harry! You just almost killed a man for no reason! You're exactly like Jace! You both treat me like your property and interfere with my life when I'm far better off without either of you!"

The words coming from Blaire's mouth are like a slap in the face. It seems so horrible and criminal hearing the truth through her mouth instead of in his own mind. It really happened. He wasn't himself when it happened; it was like someone else was controlling him, driving him over the edge but it was his hands that did the damage. His own blood covered fists that held the evidence of what really happened back there. He is just like Jace, Blaire is right. Although he would never hit a woman, he still is fixated on Blaire just like Jace had been.

The hallway is quiet but Harry knows it's only a matter of time before the police show up and begin questioning him. That is, if Parker is brave enough to call the police. Harry looks down at Blaire who is still staring at him with accusation and betrayal burning in her eyes.

She's so beautiful even when he knows how much she hates him. She deserves so much better than this. Harry is just a broken angel. She deserves heaven and he could never give that to her, not with the devil still lingering in his eyes.

Without another word, Harry turns around and walks away. He walks away from the girl he loves without another glance back, knowing that that one glance will haunt him forever. It's better if he sees her this way, angry and indifferent to any excuse he could make for his actions. That way there will be no hope that she will return one day. The old Blaire that he once fell in love with. He will move on, see other girls and forget about her just like he did with Ali. Soon, it will be as if she never existed and that's exactly what he wants.


	23. Chapter 23 | A New Life

Sixteen Months Later

 

It hurt when I stumbled across her

She was like broken glass all along the floor

But it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me

I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain

She had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it

And yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her

I wanted to pick up her pieces

I wanted to put her back together

And so I tried

I really did

I got a little cut along the way

The more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn't care

I wanted to see her happy

Every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever

She was getting better

Eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away

But she didn't take me with her

And I've been sitting here where I first found her

Wondering if the pieces on the floor are hers or mine

I should probably get the fuck up

-Unknown

 

**I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes things fall apart so better things can fall together.**

**-Marilyn Monroe**

 

The early evening sun is shining through the spaces in the trees as the train speeds along the track. Blaire lifts her head and repositions it higher onto the warm glass of the window. She struggles to keep her eyes open as the gentle vibration of the train threatens to lull her into a long deserved nap. The shadow of a passing attendant stretches over her as he walks along, asking the passengers if they need anything and Blaire is glad when he skips over her. All she needs right now is some peace and quiet.

She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them there as she thinks about the past week. After many convincing phone calls, she had finally decided it was time to visit her parents. Unable to make it to Tatum's funeral, her parents had felt guilty and insisted on making it up to her with a week long voyage home. She had to admit that she felt distant from them, not having seen them for years but the moment she stepped through the door, it was like she had stepped back in time.

She remembers the day perfectly. It was Tatum's fifth birthday and they had planned a surprise party. The living room was covered in streamers, banners and balloons. Tatum had run straight into her grandmother's arms, wrapping her tiny arms around her neck and giggling happily.

"Thank you, Grandma," Tatum had said.

Blaire had felt a huge amount of pride that day. It had been five years since she had left Jace, she had just gotten a job as a photographer at Impressions after months of applying and reapplying for the position. It wasn't until the original owner gave the company to his son Parker that she received a call back, telling her to come immediately for an interview. She had successfully raised her daughter alone for five years and Tatum was healthy and happy, all that Blaire could have ever hoped for.

Blaire also remembers perfectly the next time she entered those doors. Her parents had welcomed her with comfort and understanding. There were no streamers, banners or balloons this time. There was only pain and grief at the news of her daughter's diagnosis with Leukemia. Blaire had been unfamiliar with the disease at the time but she understood one thing and that was that most children with it only lived for five years afterwards. Tatum had been under that statistic, only making it four years.

When she walked into the house this time, a feeling of déjà vu had swept through her. She was doing better, the dreams were fading and the depression was almost completely gone but the second she saw her mother she fell into her arms, sobbing.

Amelia Carter is a kind woman but has an unfortunate habit of spoiling her children. Ever since Blaire and Kennedy were babies, they've gotten everything they needed and more. Maybe that's the reason Blaire hates accepting advice and gifts from her family members now. Kennedy still receives the most expensive gifts at holidays, glad to have someone pouring over her.

Amelia's hair had whitened over the years and her brown eyes had become surrounded with deep wrinkles. She looked more like a grandmother now than when she was one. Blaire wonders if her parents had felt the same tearing feeling when Tatum died as she did, but then reminded herself that they had hardly even known her.

But her mother still cried with Blaire as she held her in her arms. Her father, William, stood in the corner in his blue and white, plaid shirt. The buttons threatening to burst against his protruding gut as he placed down his beer bottle to wipe tears from his own eyes.

Her father had always been Blaire's favorite person growing up. He understood life in a way that her mother never had. He always gave her the best advice on money, jobs, and boys. Her favorite was his advice on marriage.

"Marriage is a trip. You start out by falling for the other person and always end up landing flat on your face when they forget to catch you," he had told her, earning a side-eyed glance from his wife as he chuckled.

Blaire had heard over and over again how difficult marriage was and based on her past relationships, she was terrified to even consider the idea of it happening to her. She remembers thinking about how Jace might have proposed to her and how she would have reacted. She probably would have told him no and that would have resulted in a beating and the ring being forced onto her finger. Just another reason to confirm that she was his property.

And Harry. The name makes a lump form in her throat and she casts the thought from her brain. He was not going to ruin this trip. Her parents didn't even know of his existence and it was nice to relax without worrying about someone bringing him up.

"So, a pretty girl like you must have a boyfriend," William had said as he sat down on the couch beside Blaire after she had finished unpacking and settling in.

Blaire shook her head silently and stared down at her feet.

"Smart girl," her dad had commented, taking a long drink from his beer.

That was another of her favorite traits about her father. He never pressed even when he knew that there was more to her answer. Her mother, on the other hand, loved gossip and needed to know everything that went on in her daughters' lives as if it were her favorite soap opera.

Nevertheless, the week spent there was refreshing and relaxing. The stress of work was lifted and Blaire could finally get away from Kennedy and her still persistent ambition of getting Blaire to go on a date.

"It's been more than a year, Blaire! You need to get out there again or before you know it you'll be old and alone!" Kennedy had whined, thrusting a list at her of possible males for another blind date.

The truth is Blaire doesn't mind being alone. It helps her heal. And just thinking about her last blind date with Mike makes her wary to go on another. She had agreed to one in the end, of course, unable to put up with her sister's constant bothering about it. The date is tonight and even though Blaire had protested, saying she was going to be tired and busy with unpacking all of her moving boxes, Kennedy had insisted it was the perfect timing.

The train passes over a small bridge towering over a tiny body of water that's glistening in the orange colored light from the sun. Blaire looks out the window and can vaguely spot the island of Manhattan, New York in the distance. She will be home soon. Or what she would like to call home, having just rented a new apartment across the city so new to her that she hasn't even began unpacking boxes yet. Blaire couldn't call that place home yet.

She sits up straight in her seat, unable to fall asleep with the commotion coming from a few rows in front of her where three young children are arguing over a stuffed bear. She looks away immediately and back out the window. Her fingers reach for the end of the plait that her mother had done for her before she left and she twists it around her finger. Her hair has grown longer, reaching all the way to the bottom of her waist.

Blaire thinks about Tatum but only for a moment. She finds it easier now to turn off the thoughts. Her therapist Lisa has spent months trying to get her to stop associating places and things with Tatum, especially other children. Blaire had found it difficult, feeling an incredible jealously towards every mother she encountered but eventually she decided that it wasn't worth it, wishing for something she could never have again.

The station is crowded as passengers get off the train, pushing their way to waiting relatives, friends, and transportation. Blaire stands next to the train up on her tiptoes so that she can search over people's heads for Kennedy. She thinks that she spots her tiny body hooked onto a guy with long, blond hair, kissing him messily but shakes her head. Her sister is coming alone.

She drops her heels back onto the ground and sighs before pulling out her suitcase and sitting on top of it with her head in her hands. Her carry-on bag is tucked safely between her knees and her phone on her lap, awaiting the call that will tell her that Kennedy got sidetracked and can't pick her up.

A few minutes later, Kennedy comes pushing through the crowd, waving when she spots Blaire and running over to her. Blaire stands up so that she can hug her sister, who rocks her back and forth quickly in her arms.

"I've missed you so much, Blaire. You have no idea how boring this city is without you," Kennedy says, picking up her suitcase.

Blaire slings her carry-on bag over her shoulder and shrugs at her sister. "Maybe it's time you found some friends of your own."

"I do have friends of my own. It just happens that most of them are boys," Kennedy confesses, smiling innocently.

The black sweater she's wearing slides down off her shoulder and she awkwardly shrugs it back into place.

"Let me guess. You found a new boyfriend while I was away," Blaire says, gesturing at the oversized sweater that is definitely not Kennedy's.

"Maybe," she winks, grabbing Blaire's arm and pulling her towards their waiting taxi.

The ride to Blaire's apartment is filled with conversation about everything that happened while Blaire was away. Which isn't that much but Blaire doesn't dare interrupt Kennedy's rambling. Apparently, she was asked to do a nude photo shoot which she's very angry about, saying that her manager 'has a few screws loose in her head'.

When they step out of the cab, Blaire glances up at the apartment. It feels unfamiliar being here. It's so much bigger and fancier than her last apartment building, but seeing as there were too many triggers there, she was forced to move here.

Blaire stops at the top step leading to the door and waits for Kennedy to catch up. She digs into her purse and finds her small, silver room key with the room number carved into it. Kennedy leads the way into the building, past the cheery, blue walls of the lobby that's filled with small couches and chairs, a vending machine, a small piano, and a separate room for mailboxes.

They walk over to an elevator, which is an upgrade to Blaire's last apartment building that only had stairs. They walk through the sliding metal doors and Blaire presses the button for the tenth floor. The doors close and the elevator moves upwards. A jazzy song plays quietly through the speakers and Kennedy taps her foot to the beat, humming and smiling. Something is different about Kennedy but Blaire can't place it. She is happier, that's obvious, but there is something else that Blaire has never seen before, something in her eyes.

The elevator comes to a halt, as does Kennedy's tapping and they exit into the hall. The walls are painted a chocolate brown and there are semi-circle shaped lights just below the ceiling. The place has a warm feeling that her old home was missing, or maybe it's just because no bad memories have been made here yet.

They easily find Blaire's room and unlock the door. Blaire sighs when it swings open to several boxes piled on top of each other. It makes the room seem smaller than when she was here last. Flynn and Kennedy had volunteered to move everything while Blaire was away and now the place has a cluttered feel to it.

Blaire steps over the threshold, careful not to trip over anything as she slips her shoes off and throws her jacket down on a nearby box. She tucks the key into the small storage box hanging on the wall and closes it, turning around to inspect the place.

She walks into her favorite room in the whole apartment. The one that had made her desperate to live here. It's painted white with huge windows covering two walls, making the room have a bright and open feel to it. The biggest window is actually a sliding door that opens to a small balcony that overlooks the small shops and ocean in the distance.

She walks over to the door and pulls it open, stepping out into the cool, spring air. The sun is just peeking over the horizon and the sky is an orange, pink haze hugging the low rise buildings around her. The cold breeze sweeps over her and she turns around, the comfort of the apartment beckoning her back inside.

"Where should we start?" Kennedy asks when Blaire enters the room again, locking the door behind her.

Blaire walks over to a box with the words BEDROOM written on the top in permanent marker and picks it up.

"I'll take this one to the bedroom. You can start with the kitchen things. Just put them in whichever drawers you like. I'll figure it out later," Blaire instructs, walking across the room and into one of the connecting ones.

It's dark inside so she uses her elbow to search for the light switch, flicking it on and illuminating the bedroom with soft light. Her bed has already been moved in and is placed in the center of the room along with a bedside table and an empty bookshelf. The walls are a russet red color with a white trim along the edge of a dark blue carpet.

Blaire drops the box onto the mattress and a few items inside rattle and shake. She grabs the tape and tears it open, pulling the flaps out of the way. Inside, there are books stacked neatly on their sides, a pile of dusty, old CDs, and a case containing her camera.

She lifts the books out without disturbing the pile and places them on the empty shelf. Then she picks up the CDs and opens the small drawer in her bedside table, tossing them inside. Lastly, she takes out the camera, turning it carefully in her hands, wondering when the last time she took a picture was.

She opens the zipper on the tiny pocket on the front of the case and a few memory cards tumble out and roll under the bed. She stoops down and runs her hand over the carpet, pushing them back out. She picks up one and examines the date printed onto it: _April 18, 2013_. Not able to remember that far back off hand, she takes it and ejects the memory card already in her camera before sliding the old one into the slot.

She turns the camera on and waits for the screen to light up while she sits down cross legged on the floor. She presses the viewing button and skims through the first few pictures which are just from a day spent in Central Park. One item in particular makes her heart jump into her throat. She backtracks a few photos and stops again when her eyes land on a video. She can see Harry's face in the preview and her thumb hovers over it, unsure if she should press play or not. She bites her lip and closes her eyes, quickly pressing down and hearing the sound of laughter fill the room.

Carefully, she peeks one eye open and then the other one. She watches as the screen moves from Tatum's face to Harry's, both of them bent over in giggles. Blaire feels a smile creeping up on her lips and is hardly aware of the tears pooling in her eyes. Tatum releases another cackle, her smile so wide that almost all her teeth are showing, her eyes dancing with joy.

The shot moves and focuses on Harry as he throws his head back, his mouth wide as contagious laughter rolls off his tongue, dimples popping on his cheeks. He stops laughing and runs his fingers through his curls, a mischievous look on his face as he bites his lip, trying to contain his smile as he studies Blaire. The video ends there, the screen turning black before the preview comes up again.

Tears are blurring Blaire's vision as she covers her mouth with her hand to muffle her sobs. The moment is so beautiful and precious and yet Blaire has the desire to remove it from the camera. If only Harry wasn't there, tainting the memory with his presence, it would have been perfect. Blaire reaches up and wipes her eyes, sighing deeply before hitting the button to move to the next picture.

It's of herself. Her face blurry and distorted as she wrestles for the camera that Harry holds just out of her reach. The next picture is of her again, an angry, impatient look on her face. She remembers that night. It was the night that Tatum had collapsed on the floor and their lives were changed forever. How could something so happy happen only moments before something so horrible? How could fate take such a twist, so quickly?

The next few photos make the tears spill down her cheeks again. Tatum is smiling and posing goofily next to the couch. Only moments before her future changed forever. She was so clueless, so happy. Although, even afterwards there was rarely a moment when Tatum was sad during her battle.

Blaire pushes the button on the top of the camera and the screen goes black once more. She sets it back inside the case and pours the other memory cards back into the pouch. Standing up, she walks over to the closet and reaching up on her tiptoes, slides the camera onto the top shelf.

She spends the next hour unpacking garbage bags overflowing with clothes and shoes, more books, and bathroom utilities, all without mentioning to Kennedy what she found in the box marked BEDROOM.

A half an hour later, Blaire is dressed and ready for her date. Kennedy just finishes curling the last pieces of her hair when there is a knock on the door.

"He's here!" Kennedy squeals, pushing Blaire towards the doorway and slipping around the corner.

Blaire walks silently towards the door, the anxiety of the date beginning to catch up with her. Who is this person she's about to spend the evening with?

She reaches out and opens the door to the face of a handsome man. His black hair is slicked back at the front, his blue eyes are focused on her face, and his thin lips are pulled up into a charming, crooked smile.

"Hi, I'm Blaire," she says breathlessly.

"Hey. I'm Wyatt," he answers, holding out his hand for her to shake. She takes it, her eyes never losing touch with his until he lets go. "Let's get out of here, yeah?"

Blaire nods her head, grabbing her jacket and closing the door behind her but not before Kennedy can throw her a quick thumbs up. And that night begins the long chain of dates Blaire went on over the next few weeks. Every week, Kennedy and her would sit down and try to pick out a guy that seemed better than the last one.

Not that the men she went out with were horrible. It was just that they spent more time looking at her body than her face. Blaire remembers clearly her date with a guy named Brad. He picked her up on time and brought her flowers. He was cute and seemed polite until he opened his mouth.

"Why don't you and me just skip dinner and head back to my place?" he'd suggested, winking just after they stepped out her door.

Blaire had left him standing there, calling after her as she walked back into the apartment, slamming the door and locking it behind her.

Then there was Shane, who seemed too good to be true. She enjoyed their evening out which they spent playing mini golf and dancing. He'd caught her by surprise when they arrived at her door, grabbing her by the waist and kissing her. She didn't push him off but there were no butterflies, no kind of arousal at all, just lips and bodies touching.

When it came down to the last ten names on Kennedy's list, Blaire suggests just cutting them up and drawing them out of a hat. After all, how could any of these men be worse than Brad was?

"Alright," Kennedy says in a goofy voice, shaking the hat one last time. "Choose wisely, Blaire. This could be the man of your dreams."

Blaire raises an eyebrow and Kennedy bursts out laughing, nearly spilling the names and making Blaire crack a smile.

Blaire closes her eyes tight and biting down on her bottom lip, she stuffs her hand into the depths of the hat. She swirls it around a few times and then closes it around one of the slips of paper.

She yanks her hand out and reads the paper out loud, "Patrick Bentley."

"Yes!" Kennedy exclaims, ripping the paper from Blaire's fingers and reading it again. "I was hoping you would pick Patrick."

"Why?" Blaire asks, setting the hat down on the empty countertop.

"Because I know you two will hit it off," Kennedy smiles, her eyes lighting up like they always do when things go the way she wants them to.

"Hold on a second," Blaire says, putting her hands on her hips and staring at her sister in disbelief. "If you knew we would hit it off, then why make me go on dates with all those other guys?"

"Because it's more fun that way!" Kennedy exclaims as she runs to pick her phone, no doubt texting Patrick about the date.

Blaire hoists herself onto the counter and watches her sister's smile grow as she types the words into her phone. Fiddling with the hat, Blaire waits for him to send his reply, swinging her legs back and forth.

"Get ready, Blaire because he's coming to pick you up at eight," Kennedy announces, tossing her phone back onto the chair she retrieved it from.

Blaire takes a deep breath and nods, jumping down from the counter and heading off towards her bedroom. She flicks through the outfits in her closet, choosing a red, sleeveless dress with a belt around the middle. She crouches down to pick out a pair of matching shoes and then walks to her jewellery box to grab her favorite angel wings pendant necklace. After tying her hair back into a bun and putting on some lipstick she heads over to the couch to wait.

The city is glowing outside her windows. The tiny restaurant down by the boat docks has lights that are flashing red and blue and making the sky around it dance. The moon is hanging low over the water, just rising in the night sky. Its reflection is a shimmering white line on the ocean's surface.

She badly wants to go out onto the balcony but the cool weather keeps her from its alluring presence. In the summer, she plans on bringing a lantern and sitting on a lawn chair, reading until she falls asleep under the hazy, city sky. But for now she's stuck inside her lonely apartment, waiting for her date which she is worried will turn out to be exactly like the rest of them.

Through her worrying comes a knock on the door and Blaire stands up, pulling her dress back down to her knees and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her heels click on the floor as she walks to answer the door. Her breathing steadying as she reaches out for the knob, twisting it and pulling it open.

Patrick Bentley is beautiful, if it's possible to describe such a man as beautiful. His light hazel eyes are framed with thick, dark lashes and highlighted by his olive colored skin. His teeth shine bright against the dim lighting in the hallway as he smiles down at her, one curved dimple indented in his left cheek. He is tall and slim but the way that his tight, blue shirt hugs his body suggests that he is well built. His dark, black hair is shaved at the sides and the top of it falls down onto his forehead. He is beautiful.

"Hello. You must be Blaire," he says in a thick Mexican accent, smiling almost shyly down at her.

His voice is just as appealing as the rest of him.

"And you must be Patrick," she replies, trying desperately not to sound seductive.

"The one and only," he says, pulling out a single red rose from behind his back and handing it to her. "For you, Blaire."

She accepts the gift, bringing it immediately to her nose and inhaling the sweet scent.

"I'll get this some water," she says, turning around and walking back into the apartment. "Come on in!"

Patrick smiles and slinks through the door. His eyes fall onto the big living room and the amazing view.

"Nice place you've got here. Beautiful view," he comments, his voice carrying into the kitchen where Blaire is filling up a cup with water and placing the rose inside.

"Thank you," she says, walking back into the living room.

Patrick is standing in front of the window, looking out at the buildings below. "You want to know something?"

"What?" Blaire asks, walking over to stand next to him.

"You can see the place I'm taking you to from here," he answers, pointing down below them at the seaside restaurant with the flashing red and blue lights. "That one right there."

"Wow," Blaire says, studying the building from their high point.

It looks fancy, but not too fancy, which is good. It looks like a good place to have fun.

"And we better be leaving or we're going to miss our reservations," Patrick adds, glancing at his watch and then back to Blaire.

A couple minutes later, they are stepping out of a taxi in front of a restaurant with the name _Clancy's Portside Grill_ scrawled in a cursive, glowing, neon colored sign above their heads. Thumping rock music makes the ground vibrate at their feet as they are ushered inside by one of the employees standing by the door.

They walk into the restaurant and Blaire is instantly reminded of a club. The flashing strobe lights, the dim atmosphere, the dancing crowd of people that are drunk and doing more grinding than actual dancing.

"On Fridays, they have club nights here. I thought it would be more fun than just dinner," Patrick explains to Blaire, placing his hands on either side of her waist from behind as he assists her through the clumps of people.

The employee stops at a table that's high off the ground with tall, swiveling stools placed around it, and gestures for them to sit. They hop up onto the stools and not long after a waiter comes along.

"Here you are. Welcome to Clancy's Portside Grill," the young, blond haired waiter smiles as he approaches their table and sets down the menus.

"Thank you," Patrick says, before picking it up and opening it. His eyes scan over the choices before he sets it down and says, "I'll have an order of the crab dish."

Blaire looks over the menu, feeling pressured to make up her mind.

"I-um, what do you recommend?" she asks the waiter.

"The lobster is quite good," he answers and then bends down and adds in a whisper, "But if you're on the cheap side of things we make a killer burger."

Blaire smiles but can't help feeling a pang of hurt in her chest. Her mind races back to her and Harry's first date, how he had dragged her all over the city, eventually landing them in a bar. She had ordered a burger there but she never had the chance to finish it because Harry had dragged her away. Then she remembered the reason, he was going to beat up the waiter for flirting with her, just like he beat up Parker. A flash of anger passes through her and she squeezes the edge of the table until her knuckles turn white.

"Um...Miss?" the waiter asks, pulling her out of her flashback and making a faint blush creep up on her cheeks.

"Sorry, I'll... I'll have the lobster, if that's alright with you," she stammers, looking at Patrick.

He nods and says, "Of course, have anything you want."

The waiter smiles and scribbles down her order before asking for drinks. "Two martinis?" Patrick asks, raising his eyebrows at Blaire.

She bites her lip and nods in agreement, she wasn't planning on drinking but then she thinks, what's stopping her?

"So, since I don't know anything about you... would you mind telling me a bit about yourself?" Patrick asks, placing his hands on the table between them after the waiter walks away.

"Alright," Blaire responds, brushing the fallen strand of hair back behind her ear again. "I'm twenty three years old. I live alone in a huge apartment. I work as a photographer for a company called Impressions and I'm just incredibly lonely."

"Well, that's too bad, Blaire, because you sound like a very accomplished person for such a young age. Why are you so lonely?" Patrick asks, his face scrunching up with concern.

Blaire immediately thinks of the true reasons why she's so lonely. Her daughter Tatum lost her battle with Leukemia and her last two boyfriends turned out to be violent, possessive freaks.

"I don't know. I guess I just don't have a lot of friends," the lie rolls easily off her tongue.

Patrick doesn't need to know about her past. This night doesn't need to be tainted with sadness and pity.

"Maybe we could change that," Patrick says, his accent toying as he winks at her.

The tone reminds her of the way Harry used to speak to her and she feels a lump in her throat and tears in her eyes. She sighs in relief when the food arrives, distracting Patrick from her hurt expression.

"Enjoy," the waiter smiles down at Blaire when he places the steaming, fresh smelling lobster in front of her.

The smile lingers a little longer than needed and Blaire thinks about how if it were Harry with her, he would be telling the young waiter off by now. Blaire shakes her head. Harry almost killed Parker. Harry is dangerous and cruel and Blaire wants nothing to do with him. So, then why has he been on her mind all night?

"Blaire, if you don't mind, I have a really deep question for you. And don't worry, I will not be offended if it's too personal for you to answer," Patrick says after he finishes spreading butter onto his crab. "What's your favorite color?"

Blaire lets a giggle slip out of her mouth and Patrick responds with a goofy smile, his dimple peeking at the corner of his mouth again. She covers her mouth and smiles at him. He certainly is charming.

"Hmm, that's a tough one but... I'm going to have to say purple," Blaire answers, still smiling as she cuts her lobster open before looking back up at him. "What's yours?"

"Orange," he says, popping a white piece of crab meat into his mouth.

"Quick," Blaire smiles, timidly lifting a piece of lobster to her mouth and taking a small bite.

The meat is juicy and has a delicate taste to it. Before she eats the next piece, she dips it in the butter on the side of her plate. She sighs as the sweet flavor bursts on her tongue.

"Is it good?" Patrick asks, gesturing at her plate and Blaire nods her head.

"They always say seafood is best served right out of the sea," he adds, pointing with his fork at the open area of the restaurant behind them that sits just over the dark water of the Pacific.

Blaire sets down her fork and takes a sip of her martini. The exotic alcohol dances all the way to her stomach.

"So, what do you do for a living?" Blaire asks, placing her drink back on the table.

"Didn't your sister tell you? I'm a part-time male model. You know, just a couple shoots here and there," he answers, setting his fork down on his almost finished meal.

"What do you do the other half of the time?"

"I'm an airline pilot," he answers, taking a long drink of his martini.

"Wow," Blaire gawks. "You're making me jealous. Your job sounds so much cooler than mine."

"Actually, I have a plane of my own, just a bit smaller than the ones at the airport. If you like I could take you for a ride sometime?"

"I'd love to," Blaire smiles and Patrick smiles back.

"It's a date," he says, picking up his fork and continuing to eat.

Blaire can't wipe the smile off her face as she looks down at her lap. She can't wait to get home and tell Kennedy how thankful she is that she went on this date. Something tells her this is the first step to forgetting all about Harry and she can't wait to test that theory.

~

The pale moonlight shines through the tiny window in the mailroom, casting long shadows onto the far wall. The click of a lock opening breaks through the silence as Blaire turns the key to her mailbox. The events of the night are still spinning in her head and she feels like she is about to scream and jump around the room. It was so perfect compared to all her other dates. Patrick was actually sweet and interesting and real. He treated her with respect and kindness, something that neither Jace or Harry was capable of.

Blaire opens the box and pulls out a couple envelopes and one large package. She tucks them beneath her arm and closes the mailbox, locking it and slipping the key back into her purse. The silence around her makes the pounding of her heart louder as she walks to the elevator.

A happy sensation travels all the way to her toes as she thinks about Patrick. Then she stops, her arm inches away from pressing the button on the wall. Her breath catching in her throat. What is she doing? Hasn't she always been careful in never letting anyone get close enough to hurt her? She doesn't know anything about Patrick and already she seems eager to see him again. What if he turns out to be just like Jace, or even worse just like Harry?

The thought causes her stomach to turn. An uneasy feeling hits her and her lip begins to quiver. Will she ever be able to feel secure with a man again? After all, every one she's been with has left her. Who's to say that any love will last forever?

The ding of the elevator makes Blaire jump. The doors slide open and she steps forward, trying to remember how she got here. She readjusts the mail under her arm and shakes her head. This isn't the first time she's blanked out before. It used to happen a lot after Tatum died, sometimes for hours on end. She would just lie on her bed and stare at the ceiling, completely lost in her thoughts.

She walks down the hallway and to her room where she slips the key into the lock and turns it. Her apartment is dark inside and she struggles to remember where the light is, stumbling around the entranceway. Eventually, she finds the switch and the room is flooded with light, momentarily stunning her as she walks to the table and sets down the mail.

She casts the envelopes aside and picks up the rectangular package. Blaire turns it over but there's no name on the packaging. She wonders who could be sending her a package when she hasn't told anyone her new address yet. The paper wrapping crinkles beneath her fingers as she stands there thinking and running her hands around it. It feels like a book of some sort.

Without giving it another thought, she tears the paper open and throws it down onto the table. She grasps the thick, blue book in her hands, examining the cover for any signs of what it might be. The words _Scrapbook_ and _Memories Made Are Worth Cherishing_ catch her eye and something flickers in the back of her mind. Where has she seen a scrapbook like this before?

She lifts the cover and the only sound in the room is the pounding of her heart as she stares down at the pictures scattered on the page. Tatum is in every single one of them. There are old photographs from when she was only two or three and there are recent ones.

Blaire flips the page and is greeted by more photos. She feels a smile tugging on her lips as she skims over the faces in the pictures. A tear falls off the edge of her nose and splashes onto the page as she studies a picture of her, Tatum, and Kennedy on the beach. Tatum is wearing Kennedy's sunglasses and they are far too big for her face, sitting lopsided on her nose. Blaire is standing beside her, her arm around Kennedy's shoulders as she sticks out her tongue.

Blaire turns the page again, cherishing each and every photo until she reaches the last few pages. Again, she feels a pang of sadness as Harry's face smiles up at her. Before she even has the chance to have a good look at the pictures she turns the page again. All across the last two pages there are messages scrawled in different handwriting. Her eyes trail to the first at the top, written in long, swooping letters.

_Hey, Blaire. I hope you're hanging in there. I know you've been through a lot these last few months but I just want to make sure you don't forget about me because I'm thinking of you. Remember how dad used to always say that grief was the first step to healing a broken heart? Well, I know that since you're spending so much time grieving, you're going to be so much stronger when your heart is healed. I love you so much._

_Kennedy._

She smiles; remembering how her dad had told them that after their grandmother had passed away. Even though they were young at the time, they still felt like something had been snatched from them, something that could never be replaced or returned.

Blaire reads the next message with her hand over her mouth.

_Dear mom. I just want to tell you that I love you. I know that you are afraid of what is coming but I need you to know that I'm ready. I will miss you so much but I will be happier wherever I end up and I will look down on you every day._

_Love, Tatum_

Heavy tears slide down her nose and leave wet dots on the page. Her eyes return to the top of Tatum's writing and she reads it again, memorizing the words. She reaches up and wipes her eyes with her sleeve before they fall to the next message.

_Hello,_

_It's your best friend here trying to give you advice even though I have no idea what to put down on the paper. I've known you for a long time now and what I've learned is that you deal with things by shutting people out. So stop right there and pick up the phone and call me because I miss you, Blaire. I understand that you need to be alone to heal or whatever but don't do this the way you always do. Let your friends help you for once. We actually do care._

_Flynn_

Blaire feels a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Flynn always knows how to make her smile and she owes so much to him for that. Before reading the next one, she makes a mental note to call him later.

_My dearest Blaire,_

_I've lived next door to you for six years and the day I heard you were moving made everything seem so final. It struck me that your beautiful daughter has finally given you the chance to start over and I will not try and stop you. I've been keeping this scrapbook that Tatum and I made until the right time and it seems like that is now. I hope you're ready to appreciate the gift that was your little girl as much as I did._

_Sincerely, Charlie_

That's where she saw this book before. Blaire recalls a day a long time ago when Tatum asked to stay at Charlie's to help him with his latest project; this scrapbook.

She's just about to close the book when some tiny writing scrawled in the top corner of the page catches her attention.

_Blaire,_

_I know that nothing I can say will make any of this better but that's not going to stop me from trying. Losing someone you love is an unexplainable feeling and something that you never truly recover from. I know from personal experience that you'll never be the same person as you were before but that doesn't mean that I'll love you any less. I know that you probably don't want to hear this but I plan on sticking around for a long time and if that means I have to hold you down and never let you go I will. I won't let this tear us apart. I love you so much._

_-H._


	24. Chapter 24 | Rooftops and Addictions

**Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.**

**-Rumi**

 

Blaire sits on the edge of the roof of Impressions, which to her seems like the edge of the world. Hundreds of cars bustle past underneath her dangling feet, blaring their horns and slamming on their brakes to avoid near collisions. People walk along the streets like tiny ants, tying shirts around their waists and pulling their hats onto their heads to protect themselves from the hot sun hanging overhead.

The unbearable heat doesn't bother Blaire, though. In fact, she barely even notices it as she sits overlooking the hazy ocean in the distance that's just visible over the buildings stretched out for miles in front of her.

Her heart begins pounding louder and she wipes her sweaty hands on her legs. Squinting against the sunlight, she raises her hand to her forehead and tries to make out the sailboats gliding on top of the water in the distance. A light breeze ruffles her hair and blows the pages in the book she is holding. Grasping it tighter, she observes the picture of Tatum and Harry from the hospital room.

It's the one picture that she can't seem to skip over, always itching in the back of her mind. She will find herself racing to the book and flipping to the page just to study it more. There is something about it that seems strangely comforting to her. She can't quite understand what it is though.

A chill runs through her when her eyes move to Harry's face. Slowly, she raises her thumb and places it down so it's covering him. She tilts her head to the side and sighs, uncovering it again. As much as he terrifies her, she can't stop looking at his picture. Is that the reason this picture bothers her so much? Is it the way he can draw her in even when he isn't there that drives her crazy?

It makes her angry that he left her no explanation, not even an apology, after all this time. She knows that he was jealous and overprotective but it seems like there is more to his actions than just that. Why had he hurt Parker so badly when he seemed so harmless before? What happened after they fought that could have changed him so drastically?

Blaire looks down at her sneakers dangling over the edge with nothing but meters of air between them and the cement below. She thinks about people that stand on the edge of buildings and attempt to jump. How easy it must be to get up there -she comes up here all the time- but how hard it must be to let go.

How could you jump knowing that there is no way of turning back, knowing that the last thing you will feel is your whole body collapsing in on itself and unbearable pain as you make contact with the ground. Committing suicide is a terrible yet beautiful thing. Blaire can't explain it but the amount of times she's thought of doing it in the past few months is unbelievable. Whenever she gets prepared to do it, she never thinks of it as dying. She thinks of it as going home to Tatum.

And what is the most comfortable way of killing yourself? Surely, a gun held to your mouth will be quick but will it be completely painless? What if you feel pain after death? Will you have to carry that pain like a burden forever?

She's thought about slitting her wrists but then she will have to wait until she bleeds out, twitching on the floor in a pool of her own blood, crying until she can't make any more sound.

A bottle of pills? Wouldn't the regret be too much? Having to know that you did something after it's too late to take it back and knowing all you have to look forward to is your own death? She wouldn't be able to handle having all that time after swallowing the pills to wait for them to seize her body; it would make her go into hysterics.

She can remember when Tatum was lying in the hospital bed, telling her that it hurt but putting on a strong face until the end. How much did it really hurt? Where is she now? Was her time on Earth pointless or was she thriving from the experiences she had? Can she remember anything? There are so many questions that can never be answered about death that Blaire is willing to give her own life to know.

The wind picks up again and a flock of pigeons leave their roosting place on a roof a couple buildings down. They fly in a formation down to the ground below. It would be so much easier to jump if you knew you had wings to catch you, Blaire thinks while watching the birds dart around the people below and land on the pavement, pecking and scrounging around for dropped food.

"Thinking about jumping?"

Blaire startles so much she nearly loses her grip on the building and her heart flies into her throat. Her eyes widen as she pulls herself farther onto the roof. She slams the cover of the scrapbook closed and sets it beside her as she turns around.

Her face immediately loses all its color and her heart gives another terrible lurch in her chest. Harry is standing only a few feet away from her, his hands are tucked into his jean pockets and the curls around his face are blowing into his eyes that are looking down at her, emotionless. The question should have been asked coyly, jokingly even, but it's clear that Harry is being serious, something she has rarely seen him be.

The wind blows again, stronger this time, causing the unbuttoned plaid shirt he is wearing to open further, flapping against his chest and revealing the tattoos on his collarbone and chest. The tan he had acquired from their vacation has long gone and he looks incredibly pale.

Blaire glances at his eyes and notices how they are no longer friendly and playful but almost defeated looking. He pulls one hand from its pocket and uses his long fingers to ruffle his hair which has grown longer since the last time she saw him. Months, she reminds herself, it's been months. She must look different to him, too.

It's weird looking at him in person compared to looking at him in pictures. It makes her realize just how much she actually misses him and wants to go over and touch his face, feel his heartbeat beneath her fingertips and see the light in his dazzling, green eyes. But she can't move. No matter how much she wants to, she chose a long time ago that she didn't want those things anymore and now it's too late.

She watches him place his hand back in his pocket and her heart thumps against her ribcage. Those are the hands he almost killed Parker with. Harry can't be trusted, Blaire reminds herself, and he's dangerous.

She looks at him again and in the space of moments, it's seems like an eternity. It's almost like they are back to the first time they were standing on a roof together. Blaire is having a hard time remembering the specific details, but she does know he made her feel safe. He was so kind and gentle then, so why is he so dangerous now?

"You almost killed a man," Blaire's voice comes out softly and she's almost surprised that he even hears it.

It was one of the last things she said to him during their fight, but it's the one thing he needs to hear.

"You know, it never gets easier having to hear that," Harry says, kicking the tip of his shoe against the cement of the roof, his eyes facing the ground. "Especially coming from you."

"You need to hear it, Harry! You can't hide from the fact that you should be in jail right now! You're dangerous! I shouldn't even be talking to you right now!" Blaire snaps, turning back around and crossing her arms.

"Then why are you?" he asks, making her visibly stiffen.

Why is she talking to him? Hadn't she told him she never wanted to talk to him again? She's told him that so many times now. Ever since the first day they met, she's wanted nothing to do with him, so why is he here now?

"Why are you even here?" she questions, looking over her shoulder to find him still staring directly at the ground.

"Same reason you are," he answers, looking up at her with searching green eyes.

"To jump?"

"To think," he interjects.

Blaire nods and turns around again, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

Why does he have to come up here to think? She's been coming up here for months and never once has she seen him here, so why is he here today? She bites her lip, wondering if he followed her up here. It wouldn't surprise her since he used to follow her all the time before they met.

She keeps her eyes directed on the ground below and thinks about how she is going to get away from him. Surely, if she just gets up and tries to leave he will stop her and try to talk things out.

Turning around, she observes him again, careful not to meet his eyes even though they never leave her face, piercing with a thousand unsaid words.

"I think you should go," Blaire says, after choosing a spot beside his head to stare at.

"You can't just make me leave, Blaire. I can stay up here as long as I want," he replies in a rough voice.

"I have the right to tell you to leave if I don't feel safe," she snaps, pulling her knees into her chest and finally meeting his eyes in a stubborn glare.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Blaire!" Harry exclaims and Blaire flinches, shutting her eyes momentarily and curling up further into her little ball. "I'm sorry. I just don't know why I do the things I do sometimes. Maybe I'm not all here. But I would never hurt you."

"Am I supposed to just trust you? How am I supposed to know you won't turn on me next time you get angry?"

"Because I won't! The whole reason I went after Parker was because of you!"

"Well, I never asked you to, so don't try to make this my fault!"

"I'm not! It's not! I'm just saying I was doing it to protect you!" Harry exclaims, running his hands through his hair as Blaire stares at him open-mouthed. She struggles to find a response, her lips moving as she stares at him completely flustered.

"I-I-I...you...you did this to yourself, Harry! So if you think you can just apologize and win me over, you're wrong! I'm not going to forgive you!" Blaire snaps.

"Are we really going to do this?" Harry asks.

"What?" Blaire retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Fight!"

"Harry, I have every right to argue with you about this! You nearly kil-"

"Killed a man! I know! You think I don't know that, Blaire? You think I don't regret what I did? I've been forced to remember what happened in that office every day since the day it happened! Every time I look at my hands I remember what they did and it's nearly impossible to think that they once held yours!" Harry exclaims.

His face should have been red from all the shouting but Blaire has never seen it look whiter. His lips tremble and he raises a hand to his face, covering his eyes and shaking his head. "I'm a monster."

Blaire sits motionless as she studies his face. The way he brushes his hair with his fingers and faces the ground so she can't see his distraught expression makes her guard come crashing down. She feels her self-control slipping as she unfolds her arms and places them behind her, propping herself up as she leans back. Biting her lip, she watches his hands return to his pockets and he glances up at her, the green in his eyes a mix of hurt and guilt. He isn't a monster. If he was, he wouldn't be able to feel the regret and ask her for forgiveness.

With his eyes still on her, she slowly stands and brushes her hands on her legs. Once again she has trouble looking him straight in the eye and decides to focus on his nose instead. When her eyes accidentally fall to his lips, she has to use all of her strength to look away.

It's in that moment that she realizes how much she craves him. How she wants nothing but for him to hold her in his strong arms and kiss her lightly on the forehead as he says the words she never had the time to get used to, 'I love you.'

His eyes stick to her like glue, searching her face with questioning but not actually asking any questions. With a deep breath, Blaire looks up and meets the eyes she didn't know she would miss so much that are only a few steps from where she is standing. She feels butterflies rise in her stomach but the feeling is foreign and almost uncomfortable, nothing like before. Staring into those beautifully, broken eyes of his she knows exactly what to say.

"Harry, I got your note. You know the one you wrote in the scrapbook," she says taking a tentative step closer to him.

Harry's lips pop open slightly and his hand flinches in its pocket, almost as if he is going to reach out for her. A short silence falls over them as Blaire takes another step closer and whispers, "How did we let this tear us apart?"

"Let's not worry about that," Harry replies after a while. "How about we just focus on how we're going to mend it?"

Blaire looks at him and her heart gives a mighty lurch in her chest. The urge to hug him is growing stronger but she can't. He isn't hers anymore, she has Patrick now, and she has to focus on him instead. She wants to try to be friends though, even if it means she might encourage her cravings. She needs him back in her life.

"Would you like to come to a bar with me tonight?" Blaire suggests and Harry's face immediately perks up.

"Which one?" he asks.

"I'm not sure yet. I'll have to ask Patrick, and then I'll let you know," Blaire explains.

"Patrick?"

"He's my...well... he's taken me on a few dates...um," Blaire stutters while she tries to avoid the word boyfriend.

"Oh," Harry says, his whole body slouching a bit and his eyes traveling to the ground again before they look back up at her.

"So, would you like to join us?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll come," Harry answers, his enthusiasm completely drained as he places his hands firmly in his pockets once again.

~

He spots her across the bar surrounded by clumsily dancing people that have too much alcohol in their systems already. That's the thing he's always liked about Blaire. She never drank herself into stupidity.

The music thumps in his chest as he walks through the crowd, occasionally getting shoved and once having a girl clutch onto his shirt sleeve and bat her eyelashes at him, with whom he gently unattached and kept walking. She is closer now, any second she will turn and see him there. His heart races at the thought of her running into his arms and kissing him but it all comes to a halt when he sees the man she's with.

Harry's eyes fall down to their hands where the man, who he assumes to be Patrick, has loosely intertwined their fingers. Blaire laughs as he tells her something and he pulls her closer to him, running his tongue over his lips. He isn't bad looking, Harry thinks as he stands in the shadows, watching them interact.

There is something about him though, something that sets Harry on edge. He can feel his fists clenching and his blood beginning to boil as he watches Blaire reach up and poke Patrick's nose, giggling. Blaire never giggles like that. What is wrong with her?

He feels like yelling and going over and shoving Patrick to the floor but then he remembers what happened last time he lost control. He can't let that happen again. Taking a couple deep breaths, he unclenches his fists and shakes his hands. He can already feel his calmness regaining as he begins walking towards her again.

Patrick glances up at Harry when he stops beside Blaire. Harry takes into account the way his eyes widen slightly. He probably thinks Harry is there to pick a fight with him since people usually get that impression from him.

"Harry!" Blaire exclaims, backing away from him a few steps, frightened by his sudden presence. "Harry... this is Patrick."

Harry's eyes travel from Blaire back to Patrick who's holding out his hand. He takes it, shaking firmly and holding Patrick in an intense gaze. Patrick seems to get the message and looks away, stuffing his hands in his pockets and smiling at Blaire.

"I'll go get us some drinks," he says in a slightly shaky voice.

Harry wonders if Blaire told him about what he did to Parker.

The awkwardness that settles over them immediately after they are left alone is unsettling and Blaire finds herself looking around the bar for something else to put her attention to.

Her eyes land on a couple grinding on each other and her cheeks turn a rosy pink as she looks down at her toes. The tension builds thicker when Harry clears his throat and brushes her arm. It feels like fire, his touch, and she desperately wants to feel him more. To run her fingers through his soft curls and down his tense chest where his heart will thump against the surface of her fingertips.

"He's a nice guy," Harry comments, scratching the back of his neck.

"Who?" Blaire asks, still coming down from her daydreams.

"Patrick..." Harry says, a bit of confusion in his voice.

"Oh, yeah. Thank you, Harry," Blaire replies sheepishly, looking flustered as a bright, pink color tinges her cheeks.

She leaves his gentle gaze to look at the floor again, her fingers carefully adjusting her tight-fitting top and then slipping through the loops in her jeans. She is secretly encouraging Harry to remember how he used to use that exact technique to pull her flat against him when he kissed her.

"You look nice," he says quietly, probably so Blaire won't hear him well over the music and all the talking but she still does.

"Thank you," she says, looking back up at him.

A small smile appears on his lips, nothing like her favorite Harry smile but enough to make both of his dimples pop out briefly.

The tension is so thick that it's beginning to get suffocating and Blaire starts searching the room for Patrick since it shouldn't take this long for him to get drinks. She scans the figures around her but there are too many people to be able to see very far ahead, so she gives up quickly and turns back to Harry.

Her heart does another backflip when she catches him staring at her. He looks away with a tiny sign of a smirk on his lips and for a second Blaire feels like everything is alright between them. Then the memories hit. Harry's blood covered hands and shirt flash across her mind, the anger in his eyes as she confronted him in the hallway, the hurt as he walked away. They are talking again but Blaire knows they are far from being alright.

A change in the song makes the girls on the dance floor shout in delight and grab onto each other and the men around them, swaying back and forth and singing the old rock song at the top of their lungs, in drunken, slurred words that just match the beat of the music. In a clumsy scramble, a few of the guys grab a girl's hand and lead her far away from the commotion, where he wraps his arms around her waist and gently sways to the music.

Blaire looks away from Harry and frantically searches for Patrick but she doesn't spot him at the bar or anywhere near it. Thinking that it's odd for him to disappear like that, she bites her lip and continues peeking around the bodies for him.

"Blaire," Harry says, now standing closer to her because of the amount of people crowding around them.

"Yeah?" she says, not looking at him but continuing her search.

"Will you dance with me?"

The question takes her by surprise and makes her stop her searching to stare at him wide-eyed. Her heart pounds in her chest as she searches his brilliant green eyes, dancing in the bright lights. She doesn't know what to do. Patrick isn't there or anywhere nearby so will he mind if she danced with her ex-boyfriend? Will he even have to know?

Blaire bites down on her bottom lip and checks over her shoulder one last time before nodding her head. A sweet grin forms on Harry's lips and he reaches out for her hand, pausing for a second and remembering that she isn't his before he tentatively slips his arm through hers instead.

The gesture is comforting and protective and Blaire finds herself leaning into him slightly, glad for the safe aura he carries with him. He walks them over to an open space and pulls his arm from hers. Blaire lifts her arms and places them lightly around his neck and he places his hands on the arch of her lower back. The space in between their bodies feels strange and the tension is still pushing on them like the north and south ends on magnets.

The necklace around Harry's neck slides over his bare chest that's showing from his buttoned down, black shirt and slips under the collar as he slowly, gracefully moves Blaire around in a steady pace to the music. Her hands unfold at the back of his neck and slide to the top of his shoulders as she shuffles forward a bit. She looks up into his eyes, questioning what she's about to do and biting her lip nervously as she finishes closing the space between them.

Blaire looks down at their bodies occasionally brushing together as he guides her in small circles. She can feel his warm breath fanning the top of her head and looks up into his alluring eyes, immediately feeling her insides melt. She tries to look away but she's slowly getting more and more lost in his captivating gaze.

A tiny gasp slips from her mouth when his hand reaches up and brushes against her cheek. Their breathing becomes mixed together as he slowly inches closer, nudging their noses against each other. Blaire knows she should push him away but his closeness is so addicting that she can't think straight.

His fingers brush her neck as his warm lips skim her cheek and cause butterflies to erupt in Blaire's stomach. He slowly turns his head away from her and then comes back, bumping their noses together. She can taste his sweet breath as his lips brush hers momentarily. Harry is nervous about kissing her. He knows the consequences of what he's about to do, but the way his heart is racing and his body is screaming means he doesn't care.

Harry's eyes flutter closed and he leans forward, pressing his lips against hers gently. She responds immediately, kissing him sweetly and running a hand into the curls around his face, twirling them around her fingers. Harry sighs against her lips before he pulls away, still letting their noses rub against each other.

A smile breaks out on his face as his eyes open and he shyly looks at her. She's smiling too. Her hand is still in his hair and he lifts his hand to cup hers and keep it there. No words are exchanged between them but they don't need to talk because they know what words will come out of their mouths and just knowing what's coming keeps them silent.

Blaire sighs quietly and the smile falls from her lips. Why did she let herself kiss him? She knows deep down that this is what she truly wants but her wants aren't greater than her needs and she needs someone that is good for her. A person like Patrick, who she never fights with over stupid things and who treats her with respect. Harry is too unpredictable and she doesn't know if she can trust him again.

Blaire takes a deep breath and slips her hand out from under Harry's, who lets it go without a fight.

"I'm really sorry, Harry, but I have to go find Patrick," she says, watching his eyes dart around the room and back to her.

"I'll help you," he says, walking to her side and placing a hand on her back.

Blaire doesn't protest as he leads her through the mass of people, using his height to more easily see over people's heads. When Harry stops walking, he squints his eyes to see more clearly. Blaire watches puzzled as a frown forms on his face.

"What?" she asks as his grip tightens on her back and he leads her over to the wall.

"The fucking, cheating bastard," Harry mutters only to make Blaire more confused.

She grabs his arm and stands in front of him to stop him from walking.

"What's going on, Harry?"

Harry looks grim as he stares into Blaire's curious eyes and lets out a long sigh before speaking.

"Patrick is a fucking dick just like a thought," he answers.

"What are you talking about, Harry? I thought you liked him," Blaire questions, letting his arm go and stepping back to get a better view of his face.

"I couldn't like anyone that hurts you," Harry admits, his eyes looking down and his feet shuffling uncomfortably on the floor.

"He hasn't hurt me, Harry! I'm fine! So what the hell are you talking about?" Blaire exclaims, a gasp escaping her lips when Harry grabs her wrists and backs her into the wall.

He walks forward until their chests are pressed together and leans into her ear, whispering, "He's cheating on you, Blaire."

"How do you know?" she asks after he pulls back and faces her again.

"I just saw him kissing a girl over in that corner. I took you away so you wouldn't have to see it," Harry answers.

Blaire follows his pointing finger to the far corner by the door and even though she can't see them, she knows that Harry is telling the truth. What other reason could be behind Patrick's sudden disappearance? She feels anger swell in her chest which is quickly defeated by fear.

"You're not going to hit him, are you?" she asks Harry.

"Of course not. I have no reason to. You also kissed me, remember?" he says, a tiny smirk playing on his lips as his eyes dance with a hint of mischief.

A warm blush spreads on Blaire's cheeks and she looks down. Harry's right. She cheated on Patrick, too. She has no excuse to be mad about what Patrick did to her when she's just as bad as he is.

The people standing near them decide to move, allowing the light to land on them, illuminating their bodies. Blaire notices something on Harry's right hand and before he has the chance to stuff it inside his pocket, she grabs it and brings it up to her face. She examines the thin, white scars dotting his knuckles, ignoring his attempts to pull his hand away.

"What happened?" she asks, her face contorting with pain as she looks up at his face.

"I-uh...got a little angry," Harry answers, shrugging slightly and trying again to pull his hand away.

"What did you hit?" she asks, staring at him with wide, brown eyes.

"A window," Harry admits, grinning sheepishly as Blaire opens her mouth in shock. "I'm fine, Blaire, really. A few stitches and I was healed right up. I hardly felt a thing."

She ignores him and traces her fingers over the damaged skin. "You've got some serious anger issues, you know that?" she says and Harry chuckles, slinging an arm over her shoulder and guiding her towards the exit.

"Come on, I'll take you home," he says, a smile still present on his lips.

"What about Patrick?"

"That douchebag doesn't even deserve a reason," Harry replies, leading her in the direction of the door.

The silence outside compared to in the bar makes Blaire's ears ring. Harry tightens his grip around her shoulders as they pass a group of men standing against the alley wall. Blaire slinks into Harry's side and glances up briefly to see a man with his hood pulled up so that it casts a dark shadow over his face. A cigarette is hanging from his lips and she can feel his eyes on her as they walk past. A chill goes through her and she can't help but feel she recognizes that taunting smirk on his face when she looks back.

Harry leads her over to his Camaro and opens the door. She leaves his side and leans down to get into the car, throwing her purse into the backseat and glancing back up at Harry before he closes the door. The familiarity of the white interior of Harry's car calms her. She notices how he still has everything in perfect order and inhales, the scent of his cologne making her sigh.

She leans her head back against the head rest and watches him climb into the driver's side. He still looks uncomfortable as he sticks the keys in the ignition and starts the engine. Blaire looks at him with concern, knowing that he's thinking about Ali, she reaches out and places her hand on top of his. He looks at her and she gives his hand a slight squeeze, earning a small smile in return before he pulls out of the parking space and onto the busy street.

Blaire gives him directions to her new apartment and then looks out the window. Shops and offices are lit up even though over half of them are closed, giving the city the constant brightness it's so famous for. A few people are walking along the streets, carrying bags and trying to hail taxis. Blaire sighs as she watches the world go by from her seat. She thinks about the man sitting next to her and wonders how they ended up here. Wasn't it only a few hours ago that she had hated him? What had made her change her mind again? She isn't quite sure she has changed her mind.

She sneaks a peek in Harry's direction and notices how his lips curl upwards, dimples indenting the side of his cheek. He knows she's watching him. Her heart picks up speed and a smile bursts on her face. She bites down on her lip to conceal the joy she's feeling at that one simple gesture but she can't hide the extreme infatuation she has for him. Infatuation isn't even a good word for it. She isn't feeling an immature form of love for him, it's more like he's an addiction that she can't seem to satisfy.

They pull up in front of her apartment building and Blaire feels the events of the night come crashing down on her. Where do they go from here? She knows she doesn't want to lose Harry but she also doesn't want to put herself at risk again.

Does he even still want her after what she did to him? Maybe that kiss meant nothing to him? But wasn't he the one who engaged it? So many worries are spinning through Blaire's head as they sit in the car, neither of them ready to say or do anything yet. Time seems frozen as the tension once again fills the air around them.

Blaire cautiously glances at Harry and without looking at her he murmurs, "I still love you, Blaire."

The words are the ones she's unknowingly been waiting to hear. She quickly unbuckles her seatbelt and leans towards him. Grabbing his face in her hand, she pulls him closer and kisses him on the cheek before backing up and opening the door. Harry turns and watches her leave, his eyes never leaving her smiling face.

"You're not so bad yourself, Harry," she says before closing the door and heading towards the apartment.


	25. Chapter 25 | Love At First Sight

**You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.**

**-Christopher Columbus**

 

A warm wind and sunshine rushes through the wide open window of the black Camaro as it drives along the highway. Occasionally, it will meet another car going the opposite direction but other than that it's all alone on the tree lined road.

Blaire's feet are tucked up onto the seat with her phone placed precariously on her knees, waiting there out of bad habit for an emergency call that will no longer come. Her long, brown hair whips around her face as she adjusts from her position of watching out the window to watching Harry instead.

His tight curls are buried beneath a white fedora, poking out around his face and at the base of his neck. A black t-shirt adorns his torso, hugging tightly to his chest and shoulders. Blaire finds herself admiring the way his arms flex as he clutches the steering wheel and examining the tattoos that are penned onto the surface of his skin.

Harry glances in her direction, a knowing smirk appearing on his lips. He loves when he catches her staring because it always leaves her flustered. Blaire smiles back with just a tiny amount of color flashing in her cheeks before she looks back out the window. The conversation from a few nights ago resurfaces in her mind. She can almost hear Harry saying _'I still love you, Blaire,'_ and she repeats it again and again in her head.

She is so lucky to have Harry love her, even though sometimes she isn't sure how he could even put up with her in the first place. She thinks about love again and all the people she does love. She loves Tatum and Kennedy, her mom and dad, but she still doesn't love the beautiful, curly-haired boy next to her. Why is that? Why is Harry gifted with the ability to love again when she isn't? What's so horribly broken in her that can't be repaired even with the kindest, most careful form of love she receives from him?

She closes her eyes and taps her foot along with the song quietly playing on the radio. The air turns sweet and clear as she inhales deeply, falling back into her seat. Her eyes flutter open again and she observes her surroundings. She can see the lake shining white from the sunlight, peeking between trees as they approach their destination.

The car slows and turns onto a narrow dirt road, through groups of trees with low hanging branches that Harry is careful not to let scratch his car. The sun gleams off the long, black hood as the car crawls along the bumpy, uneven road and dust rises into the air behind them.

They eventually arrive at an opening in the trees and the lake stretches out for miles in front of them. Blaire releases her seatbelt and shuffles to the edge of her seat, tucking her phone into her back pocket and opening the door.

She steps out into the warm, summer air and lifts her arms above her head to stretch after the long car ride. The lake is huge, expanding all the way to the horizon so that it appears to connect with the sky. Big, fluffy, white clouds reflect on the surface of the water. There is no breeze here, so the water lies calm and flat like glass.

Blaire slips out of her shoes and walks to the edge of the large rock protruding from the shore. Carefully, she dips her toes in the water; afraid she might break the glassy surface and is surprised by how cold it feels.

Harry walks up behind her, jingling his keys and throwing his fedora onto the ground. He lifts his hands and ruffles his hair, settling it back into its original place before placing a hand on Blaire's waist.

The silence settles down around them but it's not uncomfortable. In the distance, a bird swoops down and lands in the water, folding its wings in and gliding slowly along the top. From the spot on the tip of the rock, Blaire can see tiny fish swimming along the pebble scattered bottom, their shadows shimmering in broken fragments beneath them. The way the sun is high in the sky, casting a long strip of white light on the blue surface of the water makes Blaire think of the view from the hotel room window that she sat on in Greece. Although the lake isn't as beautiful as the ocean, she still gets the same calming, peaceful effect when she looks out at it. It's the kind of beautiful that makes you want to think of faraway places.

"Do you like it?" Harry asks, looking down at her.

Blaire nods her head in reply and steps away from him, letting his hand fall from her back.

"Is it just me or do you seem to know where every beautiful place in the world is?" she asks, raising an eyebrow and making Harry smile.

"Well, sometimes I just need somewhere to hide when everything is wrong in the world," he replies, grinning down at Blaire and reaching his hand out so his knuckles brush against hers.

He wants to hold her hand, not in a romantic way, but because he needs to feel her there, to know that this isn't just some crazy dream.

She doesn't take it though. Instead, she just runs her fingers against his briefly and pokes them in between his before retracting her hand. Walking away from him, Blaire finds a place on the rock and crouches down, crossing her legs and placing her hands in her lap. Harry watches her from where she left him and she feels a pang of guilt hit her. She wants to hold onto him and make him happy, but there is still a small part of her that is afraid of him.

Harry stops looking at her and his eyes fall onto a small rock sitting on the ground at his feet. Bending over, he picks it up and turns it in his hand to examine the flat surface. He looks out over the water and with a flick of his wrist, he throws the rock. It sails over the water and lands on the surface, skipping a few times before disappearing from sight, leaving nothing but a trail of ripples behind it.

He grunts and picks up another flat stone at the edge of the water. Blaire watches him silently as he proceeds to throw this one, too. The anger behind the strength of his throws is evident and Blaire looks down at her shoes while he continues to throw away the anger he's feeling towards her. The only sound she can hear is Harry's exertion and the occasional splash. Blaire throws her head back and lets the sun warm her face, sighing in content.

A sudden lack of sound makes Blaire look up to make sure Harry is still there. She spots him standing at the edge of the water, looking out silently at the endless blue. A rock is clutched in his fist but he's not about to throw it.

Just sitting there watching him, Blaire realizes just how much she doesn't want him to disappear. Sixteen months without him made her realize just how many times she'd compared other people to him and was angry when they were missing one of the things she loved about him. Love? But she doesn't love him. She can't love him.

Harry turns and glances at her, the sunlight brightening his eyes and making him squint. Their eyes meet and then he looks away. She doesn't want him to look away. A piece of her seems to fall apart and she suddenly has the urge to reach out for him and tell him how much he means to her but she bites her tongue. What's coming over her?

It's almost like the first time she saw him walking past her in the street. It seems like ever since that moment, he has been imprinted in her life. She remembers the way he left her feeling breathless and shaky. Is that what love at first sight feels like? Did she love him all this time and she has just been unaware of her own feelings?

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Blaire asks him.

Harry chucks the rock he is holding at the lake, watching it land with a splash that ripples outwards in small waves.

"I believe in hate at first sight," he replies, looking at her with accusation written all over his face.

"I never hated you!" she exclaims, making him raise his eyebrows. "I only extremely disliked you."

He laughs and picks up another rock. A warm feeling spreads through Blaire's body at the sound of his laugh. She hasn't heard it in so long that she almost forgot how funny it sounds.

"And now?" he asks and she realizes that he's stopped laughing and is looking at her expectantly.

The sudden silence is so abrupt and Blaire's heart begins to race as he awaits her response. How does she feel about him now? Right in this very moment, does she love him, hate him, consider him a friend?

Green eyes sweep over her as she races to think of the right words to say. Her heart is pounding so hard against her chest that she fears he might be able to see it, so she looks away from him and down at the ground.

A moment later, a smile appears on Harry's lips and he walks over to her. He lowers himself to the ground and sits next to her so that their knees are pressed together.

She looks up at him and gives him a nervous smile. She is making a complete fool of herself and her tongue is still in knots. Harry's hand brushes her cheek and he smirks as a red blush rises beneath his fingers.

She's expecting some smart remark to follow but instead he asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Without waiting for an answer, he leans forward and presses his soft lips against hers. She kisses him back, running her hands down his back and up again to meet with his loose curls.

She disconnects their lips and says, "You're always such a gentleman," before her chuckle is cut short by his lips.

His hand slides to the small of her back and he falls backwards onto the ground, bringing her with him. She lays on top of him, playing with his curls and sharing in sweet kisses that leave her breathless.

He pulls away a while after, humming as he lies his head down on the rock, a smile present on his slightly swollen, pink lips. Blaire props herself up so she can examine his face as she uses her other hand to sort out his messy curls. She could play with his hair forever. The soft strands curl perfectly around her fingertips and a sweet, orange smell radiates off of him when she ruffles her hands through them.

He smiles up at her as she pauses her actions to meet his gaze, her brown eyes playful. Harry lifts his head up and kisses the tip of her nose, making her giggle. She resumes combing her fingers through his hair with a grin on her face. How can this be the same boy she met that day on the boat? That Harry was so intimidating and rude, yet the boy beneath her is so careful and gentle. Is she the reason behind the change in him?

Harry lets out a content sigh and closes his eyes. His quiet humming fills the air and Blaire steals another opportunity to stare at him. His now slightly tidier curls are pushed back from his forehead and his face is peaceful as he continues to hum a tune from one of his favorite songs. Blaire lifts her hand and cups his face, earning a small smile from him. He is all hers.

She carefully uses her finger to trace around the outside of his lips and watches how the corners of his mouth tug up and his dimples pop out. She removes her finger from his lips and pokes the deep dimple on his left cheek.

"Hey," Harry chuckles, his eyes fluttering open.

Blaire giggles and tries to get off of him but his arms tighten around her and he pulls her back down.

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest and he whispers, "Where do you think you're going?"

Blaire smiles and lets her head fall onto his slowly rising and falling chest. She can hear his heart pounding steadily and she tilts her head up, placing a kiss on his jaw. Within seconds, his heart rate increases and Blaire moves her hand up to place it over his heart so she can feel it beating.

The _thump thump thump_ of his heart sends a jolt of happiness through her and she knows that there will never be another person that makes her feel the way Harry does. No one else would have tried as hard as he did to get her to cooperate and love them.

Love? That cursed word spins around Blaire's brain again. Does she love Harry? Could she love Harry? Is she actually capable of putting someone else's life and feelings before hers? Or will she just end up crawling back into herself again and realizing she's made a huge mistake?

 _Thump thump thump_. His heart continues to beat beneath her hand. A heartbeat is supposed to be such a lonely sound but to her it's a sound that would make her break if she could never hear it again.

 _Thump thump thump_. Is that her heart or his?

Blaire takes her bottom lip between her teeth and chews on it. The feelings that are slamming against her like swollen waves in an ocean storm are overwhelming and she wants to say something but can't speak without the fear of it coming out wrong.

Harry starts quietly humming again, occasionally singing parts of the song in his raspy voice. She moves her hand from his chest and begins tracing over the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt sleeve. Those three forbidden words are perched on the tip of her tongue and desperate to come out. Carefully, she turns her face to the side so her mouth is pressed against his shirt.

"I love you, Harry," she mouths.

Harry's singing ceases and he lifts his head up, looking at her curiously. "What are you doing, Blaire?"

"I love you, Harry," she whispers, relieved that the words aren't weighing down on her any longer.

Harry's eyes widen slightly and he slowly lifts his hand to cup her face.

"What did you just say?" he asks, a smile starting on his lips.

"I love you, Harry," she repeats, louder this time as a smile tugs on her own lips.

His smile stretches and he delicately strokes his fingers through her hair. Blaire leans down and connects their lips. The way he hums against her lips sends chills through her body and she pulls away a little too quickly, giggling when his bottom lip protrudes into a pout.

"You love me too, right?" she asks, propping herself up on her elbows with her face still hovering over his.

"I don't know about that," he says with a sly smirk creeping up at the corner of his mouth.

Before Blaire can do or say anything, Harry snakes his arms around her waist and flips her over so that her back is lying on the hard, cool surface of the rock.

His body hovers over hers, heat radiating between the small space their two bodies are creating. Two tattoo covered arms are placed on either side of her shoulders, blocking her in. Warm, sweet breath brushes against her cheek from his pink, parted lips as he leans in, nudging her head to the side with his nose and grazing his lips lightly against the spot just below her earlobe. Blaire's whole body stiffens at the touch. The only sound is her shaky breathing as he continues to skim his lips over her skin.

"I think I adore you," he whispers.

The goose bumps that rise on Blaire's skin have nothing to do with his lips sudden contact with the space between her jaw and neck. She knows that those words came from a little deeper than just his thoughts; otherwise he would have said them tauntingly.

A low moan builds from Blaire's chest and she arches her neck further to the side, grasping the back of Harry's head with her hand as he begins nibbling on her sensitive skin. He slowly moves away from her jaw, leaving messy kisses down to her collarbone like she is the canvas he is eager to paint.

Stopping just above her shirt, he lifts his head, his green eyes piercing into hers as his lips arch up to reveal his left dimple. Her heart continues to beat frantically against her chest as she watches him watching her.

"What are you thinking about?" Blaire asks him when he begins staring absently at a spot above her head.

"Nothing that's important," he answers, his face smiling but his eyes not.

Blaire holds back a sigh as a frown settles on her features. She hates when he does this to her. Why does he always have to be hiding something? Does he think that being mysterious is an alluring trait? Maybe it is to other women but Blaire doesn't like to be left hanging.

"We should go," Harry says and uses his arms to push himself to his knees.

Blaire watches him stand to his feet and walk over to retrieve his fedora before offering her a hand up. She takes it and he easily pulls her to her feet. An awkward feeling sweeps over Blaire when he doesn't let go of her hand but she doesn't pull away this time. Instead, she slips her fingers through his and holds him tight.

The drive back to Blaire's apartment is silent except for the radio which Harry has turned up so that it's blasting through the speakers. She wonders if this is so he can avoid talking more about what is bothering him, but even with the deafening music playing, it continues to bother Blaire. How many secrets does this boy have? What if it's something dangerous? Could it affect her in some way?

Her hands wring together nervously as she glances at him. The wind coming through the window beside him is blowing his hair back and the tall buildings surrounding them are reflected in his sunglasses. He still seems harmless to her, but what if he's done something wrong again? Did he get into another fight?

The questions continue to pound her until they pull up in front of her apartment building. Harry turns off the ignition, cutting the music off and the steady hum of the motor dies, draping a new kind of silence over them.

"Do you want me to walk you up?" he asks, pulling the keys out of the ignition and unbuckling his seatbelt.

Blaire shakes her head and glances away from him. Over by the telephone booth, she notices a man leaning against the wall and staring intently in their direction. Her heart seems to buckle in her chest as she observes him more closely. There is something odd about the way he's dressed. His black sweater with the hood pulled up so that it disguises his face from view and the cigarette pinched between his two fingers sets her even more on edge. She can almost feel his eyes surveying her from where she is sitting.

"Harry, I can't go home," Blaire says, still not taking her eyes off the male.

"Why not?" Harry asks, turning in his seat and looking at her with confusion.

"I can't be alone right now," Blaire lies.

"Well, I'll come with you then."

"No! No, Harry. I have to get away from here," Blaire exclaims, clutching the edge of her seat rather tightly.

"Alright. We'll go back to my place," Harry says, sticking the keys back in and starting the engine.

The music resumes and Blaire reaches over to turn the volume down as Harry pulls into the street again.

As they drive past the man, she notices how Harry glances at him and then looks back at the road again. A muscle in his jaw pops as he clenches his teeth together. His fists grip the steering wheel tightly and his knuckles turn white which highlights the scars that are lined on his left hand.

"Do you know him?" Blaire asks quietly when they stop at a red light.

"Yes," he answers, not looking at her.

"He was at that bar the other night. Why is he following me?"

"Now that, I don't know," Harry answers, stepping lightly on the gas and turning onto his street.

Apartment buildings and offices tower above them, giving them the feeling that they are boxed in. People are crowding the wide sidewalks, darting in and out of stores with way too many bags hanging from their arms. Harry slowly pulls up in front of a particularly tall, white building and parks the car.

The apartment building is huge compared to Blaire's. Hundreds of windows are covering the walls and trailing up farther than Blaire can see from inside the car. Two large, black doors with silver handles are facing them with the street number written above them.

Blaire unlocks her door and steps out into the busy street. Immediately, vendors selling food and jewelry start yelling at her but after living in the city for so long, she has learned to ignore them. She slings her purse over her shoulder and closes the door. Harry walks around the car and slides his hand onto her waist before he guides her towards the entrance.

The lobby is smaller than Blaire was expecting but more busy than her own. People are constantly coming and going, digging through their mailboxes and chatting with their neighbours. Harry walks in front of Blaire as they head towards the elevator. It's nearly empty and they stand at the far wall.

Blaire can remember the first time she was in an elevator with him and how she was too uncomfortable to even look at him. Glancing down at their intertwined fingers, she thinks about how far they've come since that day. All the resistance she had towards him when they first met seems to have disappeared altogether and she wonders where it all went. How did this boy force his way into her heart and completely rob her of all her self-control? Didn't she used to hate him?

The silver doors slide open to reveal a brightly lit hallway with dark grey walls and a white trim lining the floor. Harry begins walking down it before turning abruptly and digging in his pockets for the key. He pulls out a thin, black card and slides it in the slot next to the door. There's a tiny click and he reaches out with his other hand to open the door for her.

When he flicks on the switch on the wall and the room is flooded with light, Blaire's eyes dart around and her mouth opens in surprise. She thought that his car was neat and tidy but that's nothing compared to his apartment. Everything is in order. There isn't even a dirty plate left on the counter.

Even the look of the room shocks her. It has a relaxing and modern design to it. A huge fish tank takes up one whole wall in the living room and all kinds of exotic fish are swimming around under the glowing blue lights. There are a few sections of couches facing a large screen television with small, circular lights creating a spot light effect above them.

"There's some clothes in my bedroom you can wear," Harry says, shrugging his jacket off and tossing his wallet onto the table beside the door. "Just up there."

Blaire follows Harry's finger around the corner and into the adjoining room. When she gets there, she looks up and sees a narrow staircase leading up to a balcony bedroom with a kitchen tucked neatly underneath it.

She walks up the stairs, clutching the railing as his bedroom comes into view. There's a big bed in the middle of the room that's neatly made with black sheets and two pillows leaning against the headboard. A book shelf sits in the corner with plenty of CDs and movies lining the shelves in the place of books.

She walks over behind the wall that closes off most of the bedroom and opens the dresser drawer. She selects the first t-shirt she finds and begins searching for a pair of jogging pants. As she undresses, she stoops to examine the picture frames sitting on top of the dresser.

The first is a picture of Harry and a group of his friends at his high school graduation. Blaire smiles as she observes how different Harry looks. He is tall and lanky, his muscles yet to exist and his curly hair is longer and swept across his forehead in a messy fringe. His dimples are etched deeply into his cheeks as he smiles up at the camera, none of his present self noticeable in the happy, young teenager.

The other picture is of him and his parents which is also an old photograph. His hair is shorter here but he is taller, nearly reaching to his father's shoulders and about a foot taller than his mother.

Blaire pulls the t-shirt over her head, yanking the hem down past her knees and tightening the waist line of the already far too baggy pants before she reaches out and grabs the picture. She examines his parents' faces, seeing how he got his smile from his mother and his strong build from his father. The only thing that stands out is his breathtaking, emerald green eyes that differ greatly from his parents plain, brown ones.

Blaire carefully sets the photo back on the dresser and tosses her abandoned clothing at the foot of the bed. She glances down at the large bed in front of her and feels a sense of nervousness rush through her. The last time she was alone with Harry and a bed was their last night in Rio. What if he's planning on repeating the events that took place there beneath the piles of white sheets? Is she ready for something that serious again?

The sound of footsteps on the stairs makes her head jerk up and she spots Harry's tall figure appear at the top of the stairs. He lingers there for a second, scratching the back of his neck and running his foot back and forth on the carpet. Blaire watches him from where she stands, not daring to move a muscle or speak a word. The tension thickens when Harry starts walking towards the bed, bending over and pulling the covers back.

"You can sleep here. I'll take the couch," he says, finally meeting her eyes.

Blaire nods and waits for him to stand straight up again before she moves to the bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. Without breaking away from her gaze, Harry walks over to her and stooping down, tilts her head up with his finger and presses his lips onto hers. The kiss is brief but Blaire's heart still races in her chest as he walks away, his feet padding quietly on the hardwood floor.

"Goodnight, Blaire," he turns and whispers before heading down the stairs.

His ghost of a smirk is imprinted in her brain as she crawls across the bed and over to the pillows. Throwing the blankets all the way back, she tucks her legs in and pulls the blankets over herself. The smell of Harry's cologne wafts off the pillows as she lays her head down and brings with it an aching awareness that he's just downstairs, able to be called back up there at any second.

It's never seemed strange to Blaire that she's never slept in the same bed with Harry. Even after they had sex for the first time, they never slept together in the same bed. In fact, they never slept at all that night. Blaire can remember how they stayed up until morning talking and laying in each other's arms.

Blaire sighs and reaches above her head to turn off the lamp. The darkness engulfs her and she lies back down on the pillows, tossing and turning until the mattress hugs her comfortably. Ignoring the desire to stay awake, she closes her eyes and within minutes she's drifting off to sleep.

The dream comes quickly, almost the minute she loses consciousness. The sheets tangle around her legs as she tosses more violently and whimpering noises escape her lips. The face is so clear it's like he is standing directly in front of her instead of blocks away. The streets are deserted which is strange and the sky above her is overcast, yet his blue eyes still shine.

Her heart gives a lurch in her chest as he gains ground, slowly walking towards her but quickly decreasing the space between them. She turns to run but her legs become heavy and she can't lift them. With a quick glance behind her, she learns that the man in the black sweater with the hood pulled up is only a few feet away. He removes his hands from his jeans pockets and lifts them to take off the hood. A scream rips through Blaire as the smirking, cocky Jace appears and grabs onto her arm.

Blaire's eyes fly open and she shoots upright in the bed. Her screams have transformed into loud sobbing and she's clutching the twisted blankets to her chest as the tears distort the unfamiliar room around her. Her crying is so loud that she doesn't hear the heavy footsteps on the stairs or even acknowledge Harry's presence until his arms are around her, his face only inches from hers repeatedly saying her name.

She releases the blankets to grasp Harry's torso instead, his warm, bare skin providing the comfort and protection that she was unknowingly calling for. Jace's angry face is forced to the front of her brain again and she blurts out the most coherent sentence she can.

"Jace... It was Jace," she sobs, tears running messily down her cheeks as Harry continues to wipe them away.

"It's alright. It was just a dream," Harry says, tucking her hair behind her ear and resting his chin on her forehead as she buries her face into his neck.

"No, no, it was really him. He was outside my apartment. He was waiting for me," she cries.

"It wasn't him. You were only dreaming. He can't hurt you anymore, Blaire. I'd kill him before he got the chance," Harry says with his lips brushing against her forehead.

His arms tighten around Blaire's body and he rocks her gently back and forth, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to her temple until her crying begins to subside.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I think he's come back for me," Blaire says, adjusting her head so it's resting on his chest.

"Why would you think that?"

"He's found out about what happened to Tatum. Only he's known all along and he's angry with me," she answers, lifting her head to look at Harry. "He's coming because he's angry about the restraining order and how I never let him spend time with his daughter. He's coming because he thinks he can change my mind about leaving him and take me back."

"I won't let him." Harry says, his eyes hard as he looks down at Blaire's tear streaked face.

She knew that Harry would say this and she knew that he would try, but she also knows that Jace is insane and while he's still out there, Blaire isn't safe no matter who she's with.

Nevertheless, she feels a rush of gratitude when Harry leans down and kisses her forehead, whispering, "I'll keep you safe."

Blaire lays her head down on him again and sighs. She lifts her hands onto his back and leans backwards, pulling him down with her onto the nest of blankets and sheets. He lays his head on the pillows for a moment and studies Blaire's face. She knows she should tell him about Jace stalking her and how he's wrong and that really was Jace tonight but the thought seems to slip her mind as Harry's arms loosen from around her and he shuffles back across the sheets. Slowly, he moves to the edge of the bed and stands up. His back muscles contract as he stretches and a yawn forms his lips into an oval shape.

He pauses to looks back down at Blaire lying alone in a jumbled mess of blankets and pillows and gives her a small smile.

"I'll be right downstairs if you need me," he says, his eyes never leaving hers until he turns and begins walking towards the stairs, the silhouette of his figure growing smaller.

Blaire feels the panic creeping up on her again. She can't be alone right now. What if she has another nightmare? What if Jace comes for her in her sleep? She needs Harry.

"Harry, don't go!" she shouts, jolting upright in the bed. Harry stops and turns around, curiously surveying her tear streaked face. "Please stay. I can't be alone right now. Please, stay with me."

He responds by walking silently towards the bed and climbing back into it. He lies down on his side and opens his arms, a small grin on his lips. Blaire falls against his chest, feeling the warmth radiating off of him and immediately relaxing as his arms wrap protectively around her. His chest expands and falls away from hers and his steady heartbeat thumps against her forehead as she lets her eyes flutter close and falls asleep once more.


	26. Chapter 26 | Too Good For Me

We lose ourselves in the things we love. We find ourselves there, too.

-Unknown

 

Harry groans and rolls over when the bright stream of sunlight peeking through the crack in the curtains hits his face. His arm sleepily lifts and drapes over Blaire's body and his quiet breathing resumes again.

Blaire's eyes flutter open at the contact and a drowsy smile creeps up on her lips when she sees Harry sleeping peacefully beside her with his curls stuck to his face. The strip of sunlight behind him silhouettes his figure that's half covered in the blanket and slowly rising up and down.

Blaire blinks and feels the heaviness in her eyes that reminds her of the dream that she had last night. The fear that had filled her when she realized that it was Jace creeping around outside her apartment building this whole time and not just some stranger that Harry dislikes returns full force.

Harry? Didn't Harry say that he knew who it was? Why didn't he tell her it was Jace? Or is it really someone else and Blaire was just overreacting in her half-asleep state of mind? After all, Harry would have told Blaire if it was Jace. He would have warned her and never let her leave his side until the danger had passed.

She sighs deeply, pushing the worries and thoughts from her mind. There is no use worrying over something she dreamt about. Instead, she should be worrying about how she is going to get Harry to let her go home.

She looks at him with amusement as he continues to sleep before her. Completely defenseless in his deep slumber, he looks so innocent and beautiful. The way the sun hits his hair, casting a golden color into his brown locks and creating the impression of a halo makes Blaire smile. His eyebrows move downwards into a frown and his lips start moving but all that comes out is mumbling.

Blaire giggles quietly at his concerned expression and wiggles out of his lose grip to sit up on the mattress. Carefully, she uses her hand to sweep the strands of hair off of his face and watches how the gesture makes him moan and bury himself further into the pillows. She bites her lip, stifling a giggle before she bends over and places light kisses all around his face.

"That tickles," he groans, his voice thick with sleep as he lifts his hand to cup her face without even opening his eyes.

After a moment of silence, a sleepy grin spreads on his lips and he peeks his eyes open. He lifts his other hand off of Blaire's legs and runs his fingers through his hair before leaning up and pecking Blaire on the lips. The action takes her by surprise and a knowing smirk captures Harry's lips. He always knows just how to catch her off guard.

Harry pulls himself up and over to Blaire where he lays back down with his head in her lap. Her fingers automatically go to his hair, twisting and brushing through the soft, messy curls. He sighs in appreciation and closes his eyes.

"This is nice," he says, folding his hands on his stomach.

Blaire hums in agreement but her mind is somewhere else completely. She feels anger and hurt surge through her as she glances down at his content expression. He's acting like last night never even happened just like he did in Greece when she had had a nightmare and he comforted her.

Why does he always act this way? Why does he always ignore Blaire's feelings and concerns? She was terrified last night and he refused to even hear what she had to say. He just tried to reassure her and move on like he didn't even care about her.

"Harry?" Blaire begins, waiting for him to open his eyes before she continues. "I want to talk about last night."

"I already told you, Blaire. I've got it covered," he answers, pushing himself up into a sitting position.

She watches him get off the bed and waltz over to the dresser, yanking the top drawer open and searching for a shirt.

"No. I want to know who that man is that was outside my apartment building last night," she says.

Harry's back muscles tauten and he freezes in the action of stretching a t-shirt head hole to look at her. She can almost see the gears in his mind working to find a way to avoid giving her a straightforward answer. The silence overlaps them for what seems like forever as Harry stares at Blaire, his green eyes holding a worried look.

"He's just someone I haven't gotten along with well in the past," he answers, resuming getting dressed by yanking the t-shirt over his head in one quick movement. "But don't worry about him, Blaire. I put him in his place."

Blaire watches as his fists ball up around the fabric of the shirt he's yanking down over his boxers. He's angry but he's trying to hide it. Whoever this man is, he more than just dislikes him. He hates him. And why is that? Blaire wants to ask but Harry is trying to dodge her questions and she knows that he won't give up any details by accident.

When she doesn't press any further, Harry turns his back to her and digs through the dresser for a pair of jeans. She watches him, his long legs bare as he steps into the pants and pulls them up, sliding a buckle through the loops and doing it up. He turns back to her and she looks away, a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

The countless amount of times he's caught her staring at him is embarrassing and she sometimes finds herself wondering how things would be if she wasn't so innocent. Would she enjoy him noticing these kinds of things?

"I know you're enjoying the show but would you mind if I went downstairs and made us some breakfast?" he says and even though she's not looking at him, she can hear the smirk in his voice.

Her cheeks darken and she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, trying to hide her face. Harry chuckles and she looks up at him.

"Very funny," she says, rolling her eyes and pushing herself off the bed and over to the stairs.

The downstairs of the apartment is dark when Blaire walks down the stairs. The blinds are all drawn and the lights are dimmed. The wall opposite to the fish tank has an eerie reflection of water dancing on it and the fragmented shadows of the fish dotting the spaces in the middle. A rock ballad is quietly playing from the stereo beside the couch where Harry was originally planning on sleeping. She wonders if he falls asleep listening to music every night.

Blaire can hear Harry's bare feet slapping against the stairs behind her as she reaches the bottom and he pauses to flick on a light switch, illuminating the small kitchen with light. Blaire walks over to a row of stools that are tucked against the countertop and pulls one out. She sits down and fiddles with the pair of sunglasses lying in front of her while watching Harry open the cupboard doors and pull out a frying pan and spatula.

He reaches out to turn the dial on the stove and places the pan down before walking to the fridge and grabbing a carton of eggs. He opens the carton with one hand and grabs three eggs with the other, cracking them on the rim of the pan and dropping them into it. The sound of sizzling fills the room and he walks over to the sink, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water.

Blaire looks away and picks up her long hair, fixing it so that it drapes over her shoulder. The t-shirt she borrowed from Harry slides off her shoulder and she pulls it back up. The locket that Tatum gave her slips underneath the shirt and bumps against her chest. Blaire reaches down and pulls it back out, letting it fall back into place in the valley between her breasts.

The sound of the coffee maker whirring fills the room and she hears the fridge door open and close. She looks back up and Harry is leaning against the counter with his eyes fixed on the pendant.

"Who's it from?" he asks, looking up at her face.

He probably thinks she got it from Patrick or some other guy she was seeing during their separation. Blaire purses her lips together and looks down at the abandoned sunglasses staring up at her.

"Tatum," she answers with her voice quiet.

"It looks good on you," he comments, turning around to pour the coffee beans into the machine.

"Thanks," Blaire says, still looking down at the countertop, carefully examining the dark blue diamonds etched into the surface.

"Can I see it?"

"Why?" she asks, her head snapping up and her eyes narrowing suspiciously when an amused smile appears on his face.

"Why not?" he counters, looking over his shoulder at her as he flips the eggs.

"It's personal," she answers.

"Blaire," Harry says, turning around and stepping towards her, a taunting smirk playing on his lips.

"What?" she asks, innocently.

"Let me see it," he commands, slowly closing the space between them like a he is a predator and her locket is his prey.

Blaire bites her lip and her hand involuntarily reaches up to clasp the locket in her hand.

"Blaire," he says with a light laugh, finally reaching the counter. "Come on. Show me."

She shakes her head, watching him closely as he leans forward with his hands on the countertop. Slowly, he lifts his hand towards her and places it on top of the one that is protectively holding the locket. Blaire's eyes never leave his face as he slips his fingers into her hold and pries her hand open. It falls from her grasp and collides with her chest once more.

Harry bites down on his lip and grasps the pendant, turning it over in his long fingers. Carefully, he pulls the chain over her head and brings it closer to his face. There he examines it more before popping the tiny button on the top and watching the row of photos come cascading down.

All the tiny photographs of Blaire and Tatum with a few new ones added to the bottom are held in his hands and he takes his time looking at each one of them. Even though Harry doesn't know, the newest pictures are taken from the scrapbook Blaire was given from Charlie and from pictures she'd taken on her camera.

Harry stops on the last photograph, his eyebrows raising as he lifts the stream of photos to show Blaire.

"What's this?" he asks and Blaire's cheeks redden in response.

The tiny picture of Harry frozen in laughter is dangling in front of her face with the very real Harry's smiling face right across from her.

"No one was supposed to see it! That's why it's personal!" she exclaims, her face becoming even redder when she reaches out to snatch the locket from his hands.

She quickly stuffs the pictures back inside and snaps it shut. Harry continues to smirk at her as she pulls the locket back over her head and stuffs it underneath the shirt so he can't get at it again.

"How long have you had that picture in there?" Harry asks, staring at the place the locket just disappeared.

"That's none of your business," she snaps, folding her arms in front of her on the countertop.

"It's my picture in there so I think it is," he says, sliding his hand over the counter and up her arm.

Blaire ignores the chills that spread through her and the goose bumps that rise on her skin at his light touch. "What? Do you have a problem with me carrying around a picture of my boyfriend?"

"Of course not," he answers, preoccupied by running his fingers up and down her arm. "As long as you're talking about me."

A smile breaks out on Blaire's face and Harry smiles as well, his dimples popping out and his eyes crinkling. In a sudden moment, Harry grasps onto her arm and pulls her forward. His face moves into the crook of her neck and he pauses, his lips hovering just above the skin, occasionally brushing against it.

Blaire's hand finds its way into his hair, holding him in place. His hot breath fans against her neck and she desperately wants to feel his soft lips on her skin but he continues to hover, enjoying the knowledge that he makes her anxious.

"I think you're too good for me," he whispers without moving from his position.

Blaire's grip on his curls tightens. "I can be bad," she says.

"Prove it," he dares.

His lips press into the space connecting her neck and jaw a few times before he lets his tongue trace a path on her jawline. Blaire's eyes flutter close and she moans, weaving her fingers deeper into his hair.

A burning smell hits her nose and her eyes fly open. From her spot on the far side of the counter, she can see the eggs turning black and the grease spitting from the pan and all over the stovetop.

"I would but the eggs are burning," she says, pulling away from him.

Harry turns and looks at the stove top. "Oh shit!" he exclaims, letting go of her and running back to the opposite counter.

He grabs the spatula and swiftly flips the eggs onto a plate before twisting the dial to the off position. Blaire laughs as he glances over his shoulder with a grin on his face.

After salvaging what is left of the eggs and drinking their coffees, Harry agrees to drive Blaire back to her apartment. As they weave in and out of the morning traffic, Blaire can't help but worry if that man will still be there when they arrive. But she doesn't voice her concerns to Harry this time. Instead, she looks out the window and tries not to let the worrying show on her face.

The same question that she's been pondering over all morning comes flying to the front of her brain. Why does Harry hate that man? It shouldn't be so important to her since it seems like Harry dislikes most of the men he meets, but there is something different about this one. And it could because Harry won't give her any details about who he is or why he was there last night. What is he trying to hide from her?

They pull up in front of her apartment building a few minutes later and Blaire immediately looks to the spot that was occupied the last time she was here. It's empty. Her eyes scan the entire street and then the other side but there is no sign of any man in a black sweater with the hood pulled over his face. Letting out a quiet sigh, she reaches for the door handle but before she can open it Harry's hand grasps her arm.

She looks over at him curiously and he lets his hand drop.

"Call me if you need anything, alright?" he says, his emerald eyes never wavering from hers.

"Alright," she says, turning back to the door and opening it.

The air is warm again as she steps out into the busy street, clutching her purse in one hand and the door in the other.

"Bye, sweetheart," Harry says, leaning down so he can see her face from his spot in the driver's seat.

Blaire feels her heart jump in her chest at the sound of her old nickname. "Goodbye, Harry," she smiles, waving quickly to him before shutting the door and walking around the car.

As she walks up the front steps, she can't shake the strange feeling she got from him telling her to call him if she needed anything. What was that all about? Was he talking about the way she was feeling last night and suggesting that she could talk to him if she felt scared again? If it is that, why didn't he just talk to her about it before she left?

Blaire rubs her forehead as she walks towards the elevator. Harry is starting to give her whiplash again. The ride up to her floor is silent and she sighs loudly, feeling the restless night beginning to catch up with her. When the silver doors slide open, she begins walking to her apartment door, reaching it quickly and slipping the key into the lock.

After putting the key into the box by the door, she drops her purse on the couch and walks into her bedroom to pick out some clothes. The room seems dark and closed off compared to Harry's bedroom and she finds herself feeling a sense of loneliness creeping up again on her as she thinks about Harry.

She walks over to the dresser and picks out the first clothes she sees before heading off into the bathroom. Looking into the long mirror on the far wall, she notices how tired she looks. Her eyes are puffy and her face looks a little pale in the bright lights behind her.

She lets her hands fall to the hem of Harry's t-shirt and she strips it off, the scent of him filling the room once more. The pants go next and finally she is left to stare at the locket lying on her bare chest. Why does she have that picture of Harry in there? Hadn't she had been angry when she found it on her camera and wished that she would never have to see him again?

Abandoning the thoughts, she takes the locket off and tosses it onto the counter beside her clean clothes. Her bare feet pad across the linoleum tile as she walks over to the shower and steps in. The hot water relaxes her as soon as it hits her and she closes her eyes, letting all of her worries float away.

~

The sun is soaking into the black hood as he lifts it up and peels it off his sweat drenched neck. The people walking past him glance at him for a moment as if wondering why he's wearing a sweater on a hot summer's day like this. He doesn't care what they think though. He needs this disguise so he can make it to her without running into any cops.

A single drop of sweat runs down his forehead from his dark brown hair and he wipes it off with the back of his hand. If she'd just stayed with him in the first place, he wouldn't have to be walking halfway across the city to bring her back home. If she'd done a lot of things he'd wanted, his life would be so much better. That's why he is going to get her and fix everything he's done wrong. He will try harder to make her happy this time.

But their daughter, what about their daughter? How can she be happy without their daughter? He knows how much she cares about their daughter, after all, the daughter is the reason that she left him in the first place.

A sleek, black car with a white stripe down the hood rolls past him and the driver glances at him through the open window. Jace glares back at him, adjusting his hood further over his eyes as he continues to push his way through the many bodies on the street. He has to get to her. He knows he can change her mind. This time she will take him back.

The sun beats down harder as he scales the front steps of the apartment building he's spent the last few days lurking outside of. Finally, he is able to throw back the hood, sighing as the cool breeze from the air conditioning hits him. His hair is stuck to his face and dripping wet as he runs his fingers through it, wiping his sweat covered palms on his baggy jeans.

He quickly walks over to the elevator, the thrill of what he is about to do mounting in him. After jabbing the button several times in impatience, he runs his fingers through his short hair again, leaving it standing up in certain places. There's a dinging noise followed by the doors sliding open and he stalks into the small, metal room.

His clear, blue eyes land on the button pad and he presses the number for Blaire's floor. He remembers it easily from the night he had hacked into the security cameras and waited for Blaire to show up on the screens. From there, he'd zoomed in on the door number and it hasn't left his mind since. He'd obsessed over it for days, thinking about how he could get inside. A simple card-in-the-door trick would do it but he had wanted to have a key to make him feel like he was a part of her life again.

The elevator sighs as it comes to a stop and the doors open once more. Jace begins walking without even having to think about what direction he is going in and soon he reaches the door. The number is gleaming right in front of his face as he pulls out a piece of coat hanger from his pocket and slides it into the crack between the door and the wall. The sound of the locks clicking open gives him a feeling of satisfaction and he turns the knob, smiling as Blaire's apartment opens up before him.


	27. Chapter 27 | Insane

**It is good to have an end to journey towards, but it is the journey that matters in the end.**

**-Ursula K. Le Guin**

 

"Hello?" Jace says, not trying to project his voice. "Blaire?"

The only answer he receives is the muffled sound of water pounding against tile. He cautiously steps forward into the bright, white living room. On the table in the corner, there is a pile of mail scattered on top and an empty coffee mug. He heads towards it, picking up an envelope and reading over the address on the front. His eyes fixate on the name scrawled in the top corner _'Blaire Carter'_.

He throws it down and shoves aside the other envelopes, searching for anything that might give him the information he is searching for. All of the people she is in contact with, they can't know about her disappearance until he can think of a way to keep her quiet about it. Kennedy, the sister, what is he going to do about her? She was the problem in the first place. She was the one that talked Blaire into leaving him. Without the sister, she wouldn't have gone anywhere.

His eyes look up and dart around the room. Several frames hang on the walls around him. He picks out the one nearest to him that shows Blaire and Kennedy sitting on a bench in Central Park. She's beautiful, Jace thinks, examining Kennedy's wide smile and tiny figure, but not as beautiful as Blaire.

He remembers the first time he saw the sister. She would have only been a child at the time, maybe eleven or twelve years old. He remembers considering hitting on her but then he got to know her better and realized she was smart. She was smarter than her sister who fell for him and she was smart enough to see through him. But what is there to see, again? He is man that loves his ex-girlfriend and recently deceased child and would do nothing to hurt either of them. What's so wrong with him?

The sound of water running ceases and he lifts his head up, staring in the direction of the bathroom door. Blaire is coming. Jace races his fingers through his now dry hair and rubs his stubbly chin. He can hear her bustling around behind the door and can imagine her naked body, dripping wet. He feels his pants pressing tightly against his crotch.

He closes his eyes and pictures her beneath him, her pale, beautiful skin completely bare as his eyes trail over her. He can almost hear her screaming his name and the pleasure coursing through his body. How long has it been since the last time? He can't remember but he knows the next time will be tonight, whether she wants to or not.

The bathroom door squeaks open and she appears in the hot steam. Her hair is longer than he's ever seen it and hanging in damp waves over her shoulders. A baggy t-shirt of a band he doesn't recognize is covering up her delicate curves and a pair of shorts leave her long, thin legs for his eyes to trail up. His tongue darts out and runs over his lips as his eyes reach her startled face. Her big, brown eyes are wide with surprise and her full lips are parted.

"It's been too long, baby," Jace says, leaning casually against the back of one of the sofas.

Blaire's eyes scan the room, landing on the wall separating the living room and hallway. She darts behind it, pressing her hands into the wood to stop them from shaking. Jace stands up from his position and takes a few steps towards her hiding place.

"Come on, Blaire. I'm not going to hurt you," he says, laughing lightly.

Blaire squeezes her eyes shut and clenches her fists together, trying to pull herself together for the flight she knows she will have to make. She quickly runs through the exits of the apartment in her mind.

The front door which would be the safest option but would take the longest to get downstairs enters her mind. But when she reaches the lobby, where would she go next? She thinks about the balcony in the living room and the fire escape running all the way to the pavement below. She could make it but she needs a way to sneak past him and the only way out is to walk right by him.

She thinks hard of a way to get past, but the only idea that seems possible is trying to talk her way out of it. Taking a deep breath, she steps out from behind the safety of the wall. She stares at his sun kissed and dirty looking face. His blue eyes widen when he sees her and a smirk tugs on his lips. The look sends chills down Blaire's spine but she doesn't run back into hiding.

"You look beautiful," Jace says, not looking at her face but continuing to appreciate her figure.

"Why are you here, Jace?" Blaire asks, mustering up all the courage she can to ensure that her voice doesn't shake.

"Easy, Blaire. There's no need to get angry with me. I'm just here to talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," she spats, crossing her arms.

"What did I ever do to you, Blaire? What did I ever do to make you leave me?"

"What did you do? What- You know what you fucking did to me! You are abusive and insane and I want you to get out of my apartment before I call the police!" she yells, storming towards him and pointing at the front door.

"I-I never did those things. You were always the one coming up with these crazy stories about me hitting you and getting me in trouble with the cops. I tried to fix us. I was the one trying to hold this relationship together," he explains, his voice remaining calm as his eyes train on her face.

"You're insane Jace and you need to go," Blaire repeats, her voice cracking slightly.

He's driving her over the edge with this act he's putting on. He knows exactly what he did to her. He knows about all the times he's hit her. She can perfectly remember all the times he left her covered in cuts and bruises and how she struggled to cover them up from the eyes of others.

She feels her stomach drop under his intense gaze. He did hit her, right? She studies him through narrowed eyes. His eyes are gentle and his muscles are relaxed. He looks so sincere. Is he telling the truth, is Blaire the one that's crazy?

It would explain a lot of things, especially why her dreams are so vivid. She could have been dreaming about him abusing her this entire time and falsely accused him. She could have blacked out and self-inflicted those wounds. Is she the psychopath? But hadn't he come back months ago to try to take Tatum away from her?

A tiny gasp escapes her lips. Could he have been trying to take Tatum away from Blaire because she wasn't stable enough to look after her? Was she fighting him this entire time when this was all in her imagination?

A thought enters her brain that is so cruel and unheard of that she can't believe she actually thought of it. What if Tatum is still alive but they are keeping her hidden? What if the cancer was all a lie and only used as a way to trick Blaire into giving Tatum up? And what about Harry? Could their whole relationship have been a dream as well?

"Come here," Jace says, holding out his hand to her.

Blaire stares at it, judging the amount of space in between them and not wishing to decrease it. He still disgusts her and despite the fact that she is confused, she isn't going to let him touch her.

"No."

"I said come here," he commands, his voice rising slightly.

"And I said no," Blaire snaps back.

"I said come here, bitch!" he spats.

Blaire flinches but still doesn't move from her stance. She watches as Jace's hands curl into fists and the veins in his arms throb.

"No, Jace. You don't tell me what to do anymore," she argues, a feeling of relief and familiarity sweeping through her.

She is right. Jace was lying this whole time, probably trying to convince her she was crazy so he could trick her into leaving with him.

A humorless laugh rings from Jace's mouth and he takes a few steps forward. "Well aren't you feisty? Last I remember, I had you cowering on the floor with broken shards of glass all around you, trembling and crying like the helpless, stupid, little girl you are. I mean, did you really think I ever loved you?"

The taunting words hit Blaire hard in the chest and her lip quivers for a moment. She had been a stupid, little girl when she fell for Jace's charm and looks. She had believed for years that he truly loved her. Even when he starting hitting her, she still held onto that tiny bit of hope that he would change and become the boy she once fell in love with.

"You are worthless to me! You broke my heart once when you left me! You broke it a second time when you took my daughter away from me! And then I thought maybe I could give you one more chance... but it turns out you haven't changed at all," Jace continues, his face a steady red color.

"I've changed lots! I'm ten times stronger than I was then!"

"And who's this guy you're seeing because I think I need to pay him a visit as well!" Jace roars, approaching Blaire even faster now.

"Don't you dare tou-"

Blaire's voice is cut off and her breath hitches in her throat as he grasps onto the front of her t-shirt. His face is only inches from hers and she raises her hands to his chest, shoving him away but he doesn't budge.

"What's this? Do you love him, Blaire? Do you care about him? Because I can remember a time when you loved me. How did that turn out, Blaire? Not the way you planned it, huh?"

Terrified, she glances up into his angry eyes. Shaky breaths leave her mouth as his grip slowly begins to lessen on the front of her shirt, eventually releasing it as he storms over to the far side of the room.

When he reaches the wall he spins around and shouts, "I needed you, Blaire! I needed you and Tatum and you left me! You left me with nothing!"

Blaire watches in horror as he picks up the nearest picture frame and flings it across the room. It hits the wall, shattering into broken shards of glass and wood on the floor. The photograph flutters down slowly, landing on top of the pile of broken glass.

"I bet you thought you were safe! Thought that fucking restraining order would protect you!" Jace shouts, the vein in his neck popping out. "Well, you were fucking wrong! You'll never be able to hide from me!"

Blaire bites down on her lip and frantically searches the room for a way to defend herself from the fight she knows is coming. She spots her cellphone lying on the kitchen counter and Harry's words echo in her mind. _"Call me if you need anything, alright?"_

Blaire carefully takes a step backwards, her eyes never leaving Jace as he picks up another frame and smashes it at his feet. Her other foot follows as she draws nearer to the counter.

"Are you even listening to me?" Jace spats.

Blaire is forced to stand still and watch, stuck in her attempt for safety, as Jace strides across the room to her. In one fluid movement, she reaches behind her and grabs the phone before sprinting towards the front door. Jace catches up to her and grabs her arm, swinging her around so that she bumps into his chest and the phone is sent flying out of her hand.

The sound of the phone clattering against the tile makes Jace turn and look for the source of the noise. When he spots the phone lying a few feet away from them, he turns back to Blaire and grabbing a fistful of her hair, he shakes her violently.

"Who were you trying to call? Tell me!" he shouts and jerks her head back up to look at him.

A whimper slips from Blaire's lips as she bites back a cry of pain. She can almost feel the anger radiating off of Jace as he uses his finger to tilt her chin up. For a moment, she thinks he might kiss her. The moment is shattered however, when he slaps her hard across the face. Blaire's jaw becomes slack and a loud gasp of pain shoots out of her mouth. Lifting her hand to cover the red skin, she looks back up at Jace. He looks furious, his eyes are blazing and his pupils dilated as he stares at her.

Her mind races as she tries to think of an escape. Jace would only be angered further if she tries to fight him and even if she wanted to, he's too strong for her to win. The amount of times she has been in this position before is unbelievable and every one of those times she would attempt to fight back only to end up with more serious injuries. The only way it seems to get out of this situation is to fight with love rather than violence. Isn't that what Jace wants? He wants Blaire to love him just like she did back in high school.

"Jace," Blaire begs. "Jace, please don't do this. I'll go with you. I'll go with you. Just please don't hurt me."

The grip he has on her hair loosens for a moment before it tightens again.

"You know what I think? I think that's the biggest load of bullshit you've ever said," he says in a strained voice.

"No, please. Please, I just want to start all over again. Just let me explain!" she cries as Jace yanks her head towards the counter and throws her down over top of it.

Blaire inhales a sharp breath as her stomach collides with the hard surface and she feels his rough hands press onto her back, holding her down.

"No! You've had lots of chances and you blew all of them! I don't think you'll ever change and I don't even know if you're even worth the trouble anymore!" he yells, pushing her further onto the countertop.

"Then let me go," she pleads, trying to see past the hair that's fallen into her face.

!"No! It doesn't work that way. You need to pay for how you've made me feel. For all the time I've wasted on you!"

Blaire struggles beneath his strong arms, wiggling in every direction and kicking her feet into his legs. Jace remains bent over her and she struggles harder under his crushing weight.

"How does it feel to know you're not going to win this time?" he asks through clenched teeth.

Blaire fumbles with her fingers, desperately trying to find something to grab hold of but with her arms pinned beneath her she can't move them even if she did find a weapon. She can feel her face reddening in exertion and the lack of oxygen getting to her brain is dizzying. Her head is beginning to feel fuzzy. Her head.

In one fast movement, she leans forward and brings her head back up with all the force she can muster. A satisfying crunching sound fills the air when her head comes into contact with Jace's nose. His hands immediately fly up to stall the blood pouring down his face and into his mouth and Blaire takes the opportunity to push him away and run.

Her first thought is the front door but she won't make it very far before Jace will catch up with her. She needs her phone so she can call for help. She stops in mid-run, her bare feet squeaking on the floor as she turns on the spot and rushes back in the other direction. She can see the phone sitting on the floor right next to Jace, who is wiping the blood from his face and flinging it off his hands, a steady stream of curse words being muttered under his breath.

Blaire darts towards the phone at the same moment that he reaches out for her. She ducks around his hand and falling onto her hands and knees, crawls out of his way. Jace growls in frustration and dives for her, missing her ankle by an inch and falling onto his stomach.

"Get back here!" he yells, quickly getting to his feet.

Blaire is already up and running in the direction of her bedroom. Her feet carry her faster than she's ever run before as she crosses over the threshold and slams the door behind her. An awful cracking noise is heard as Jace throws himself against the barrier between them.

Blaire backs up until she runs into the foot of the bed. She knows the door won't hold for long and she wants to put as much space between them as possible. She scrambles onto the mattress, crawling all the way to the headboard. Her eyes scan the room for a weapon as he hits the door again.

"Open the door, Blaire," he says and she can hear the taunting tone in his voice, picture the evil smirk on his face.

She crawls further into her bed, pulling the pillows around her as she cowers behind them. Her heart is pounding in her ears, the only sound she can hear as she waits for the outburst.

"Open this fucking door!" Jace roars and the banging continues.

The door shakes and the hinges groan as he thrusts himself into it once more. It's only a matter of seconds before he will be inside and she will be trapped once again.

She can hear his heavy panting on the other side of the wood as he backs away to get a running start. He yells out as he runs forward, his large body slamming into the door. There's a loud crash and Jace's body comes flying into the room.

A thin layer of sweat is coating his face and soaking through the front of his sweater. His hands are balled into fists and his whole body is shaking as his eyes fall on Blaire, cowering behind several pillows against the headboard.

In a few strides, Jace reaches the bed and grabs onto the blanket. He yanks it off and casts it to the side. His eyes are bloodshot as he climbs onto the bed and crawls towards her.

She grasps a pillow tightly and holds it in front of her. The only object she has to block his powerful blows. She shrinks into a ball and closes her eyes to brace herself. Jace's hands grasp onto the pillow, jerking it towards him. Blaire tightens her grip, holding on by just her fingers as she is thrown forwards with it. He tugs on the pillow, pulling it out of her hands and sending it cascading through the air and into the far wall.

Blaire's hands fly up to block her face and her knees up to block her stomach. Jace easily pries her arms away and clutching both her wrists in one hand, he exposes her face. The blood coming from his nose is beginning to dry on his face, but still tiny flecks fall onto her shirt as he hovers over her.

His eyes that are usually a clear blue color, almost like water, are dark and hard. She can't look at him so she turns her head to the side.

"Look at me!" he shouts, spit and blood flying from his mouth and landing on her face.

She blinks at his harsh tone and when she opens her eyes again, she notices the vase full of white roses sitting on her bedside table. She quickly brings her knee up into his stomach and he gasps, loosening his grip on her wrists. Blaire yanks her hands free and grabs the vase from the table. With all the force she can muster, she swings it towards him. Jace's arm flies up and the glass hits it, ricocheting off and onto the floor.

Blaire scrambles to get out from under him but he places a hand on her shoulder and another on her chest and shoves her back down on the mattress. He sits down on her legs and she desperately tries to squirm them out, thrashing and bucking the lower half of her body in every direction.

Her legs scream in protest under his weight and she reaches up her hands and claws at his face. He yells in protest as Blaire leaves long, red marks from his forehead to his chin and he removes his hand from her shoulder to grasp for her arms.

Blaire makes one last escape attempt by rolling over and shuffling on her stomach. Jace grabs both of her wrists in each of his hands and pins them down to the mattress. Blaire lets her head fall in defeat as he straddles her back and bends down next to her ear.

"Now stay here until I decide what I'm going to do with you," he hisses before straightening up and climbing off of her, freeing her legs.

She uses her legs to swivel around until she's on her side and using Jace's imbalance to her advantage, she rolls over and sends them both tumbling to the floor. His hands let go of Blaire's wrists so that he can break his fall and she grabs onto the edge of the mattress. In a second, she's on her feet and sprinting towards the door that is hanging off its hinges.

She can hear Jace scrambling to his feet behind her and pushes herself to run faster. The balcony doors are just ahead of her when her foot catches the leg on the couch and she crashes to the floor.

"Blaire, come back here! I'm not going to hurt you!" Jace yells as he appears in the doorway.

His eyes dart around the room, his face mutilated by blood and scratch marks, until he spots Blaire splayed out on the floor.

Blaire, who was lying completely still and hoping he wouldn't see her, scrambles to her feet when she turns and sees Jace running towards her. She races in the direction of the balcony, hoping she will be able to get far enough ahead of him to call for help.

She reaches the door and fumbles with the lock before yanking it open. Jace is right on her heels, only an arm reach away from stopping her when she reaches the ladder on the side of the balcony. Without pausing to look down at the meters of space between her and pavement, she lifts her leg over the railing and clumsily places it on the first rung.

A hand encloses over her upper arm and jerks her back over the railing. She loses her footing and collapses onto the hard surface of the balcony. Jace is still grasping her arm while her free one raises to his stomach and begins punching him. Blaire clenches her teeth and sends blow after blow to his abdomen even though she knows she isn't nearly strong enough to do any damage.

Jace grasps his hand tightly around her wrist and pulls her to her feet. He grabs her other arm and backs her into the railing. The cold metal bars press into her back and she grunts as she tries to push him away.

"It's time to stop struggling, Blaire. It's over," Jace says, holding her hands against the railing and pressing his body into hers.

Blaire continues to squirm but can slowly feel the adrenaline leaving her body and the lack of energy catching up with her.

Her body becomes still, her muscles relaxing as she sighs and droops against the railing. Jace is right. It is over. There's no way Blaire can get away from him and even if she does, there's no way she can continue to evade him for the rest of her life. It's easier this way. It's easier to just give up.

"You're right, Jace," she sighs. "I can't fight you anymore. I'm yours."

Jace examines her face with soft, blue eyes before they darken and a frown returns to his features. He shoves Blaire from the railing to the ground. A gasp falls from her lips as she hits the pavement, scraping her hands and banging her head.

Stars blind her vision as she squints up at Jace's vengeful face. His teeth are clenched and he's panting heavily. Blaire slowly brings her knees into her stomach, a position she's been in so many times before, and waits for the blows she knows are coming.

"I don't want you anymore!" he roars, angry tears gathering in his bloodshot eyes. "You are worthless to me!"

Jace's eyes are suddenly removed from Blaire and focused on the open door. A tall figure is standing there, his fists clenched, his jaw taut, and his green eyes piercing as he stares back at Jace.

Blaire follows Jace's gaze and her heart jumps in her chest when she sees Harry stepping out onto the balcony. His eyes flicker to her, lying on the ground and then back to Jace.

"Get the fuck away from her," he growls.

The muscles in Jace's arms tighten and the veins become prominent as his eyes bore into Harry's face.

"You're the reason," Jace says, pointing his finger accusingly at Harry. "You're the reason she doesn't love me anymore. You're the reason she left me."

Blaire slowly lifts her head and watches the two men stare each other down. She gingerly places her elbow underneath chest and pushes herself up onto her knees. Jace's back is still turned to her and Harry tries very hard not to look in her direction as she gets onto her feet and backs away from Jace.

"She had a perfectly good reason to leave you and it wasn't me," Harry argues.

"She told you I hit her, didn't she?" Jace asks, tilting his head to the side. "Those stories are all lies. I never laid a finger on her. She was just too afraid to settle down, too afraid to fall in love. She'll leave you too, if you give her the chance."

Blaire continues to sneak around behind him, taking light steps so that she can move as silently as possible. Her heart is in her throat as she moves into Jace's peripheral vision. Her eyes stay glued on him as she takes another step forward. Just one more step until she can run to Harry and finally be safe.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Every single muscle in Blaire's body freezes in fear. Jace's eyes are directly on her but she turns and looks at Harry, panic coating her face. She takes off running at the exact same moment Jace bolts towards her. Jace's arms wrap around her body, pulling her tightly against his chest. Her arms are pinned against her body and all she can do is repeatedly thrust herself forwards.

Harry begins walking towards them and Jace turns Blaire away from him.

"Stop right there," Jace orders, positioning his arm from her stomach to her neck.

Blaire gasps and her newly freed arms fly up to his arm, digging into the skin as she scrambles to free her airway.

Harry stops and takes a step backwards. His hands fall to his sides in defeat and his face softens as he watches Blaire struggle, his worried eyes never leaving her face.

Jace's arm tenses around her neck and he stares at Harry, his eyes narrowed as he scans over him. Extreme dislike courses through his veins as he remembers how this was the guy that beat him up last time he came looking for Blaire.

"You know what I think?" Jace says. "I think I should just kill her. It would make things so much easier for you and me. There'd be no more anger and no more pain and she'd never be able to leave you like she left me."

The enraged expression returns to Harry's face and he storms forward, surprising Jace by raising his fist and connecting it to his already damaged nose. Jace curses and releases his grip on Blaire.

She stumbles forward, gasping for breath and clutching her throat as the air painfully flows back into her lungs. Strangled coughs escape her mouth and her eyes water as she tries to make out what's happening before her.

Harry has the front of Jace's sweater balled up in his fist while he uses his free hand to send punch after punch into Jace's face. Blood pours from his nose and lips, staining his shirt and Harry's fist.

Blaire watches in horror as Jace slumps, the only thing holding him up is Harry's grasp on his shirt. Harry is going to kill him if he doesn't stop.

"Harry!" she yells, running towards Harry and grabbing onto his shoulder, trying to pull him away.

"Harry, stop!" she screams as he continues to pound away at Jace's bloody face. "Harry, please! Please, you're going to kill him! Stop!"

A strangled groan slips from Harry's lips and he lets his hand fall to his side. Jace's eyes travel to her face before Harry releases his sweater and he falls to the ground. Blaire sighs and raises her hand to turn Harry's face to her. His face is pale and his eyes are distant as he looks down at her. His breathing is still heavy and his fists are still clenched but he is coming back to her.

"Harry," Blaire says, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "We have to call the police."

He nods and steps away from her, wiping the splattered blood onto his shirt as he pulls his cellphone out of his pocket. Blaire watches him as he dials the number and puts the phone up to his ear.

She notices the way his lips move and the little crease that forms between his eyes, just at the top of his nose as he tells the police what happened and everything seems to melt away. He just saved her life. The boy with the blood splattered _Rolling Stones_ t-shirt and heart achingly, beautiful soul has just saved her life.

When the police arrive, Harry and Blaire stand off to the side and watch them pick Jace up from the ground and with their hands under both his armpits, carry him away. Blaire looks down at the ground and when she feels Harry's arm curl around her waist, she sighs. He still is the only person in the world who can make her feel so safe.

"I'm sorry, Blaire," Harry says, stepping closer to her and leaning down so that his nose is brushing against the top of her head.

"What are you sorry for, Harry? You didn't do anything wrong. You stopped him and even if you lost control for a few seconds, you still stopped," Blaire says, tilting her head up to look into his eyes.

"I'm sorry for not telling you!" he exclaims and storms away from her and over to the far railing.

Blaire trails after him, hesitating when she reaches him and deciding to keep a few feet between them.

"For not telling me what?" she asks timidly.

There's a moment of silence before Harry turns around.

"For not telling you about Jace," he answers, guilt flashing in his green eyes. "I've known for a long time that he was around again. I just thought that my threats would keep him away."

"You threatened him?"

"Yeah," he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It was a couple of months ago, during the time we weren't together. I was walking down the street across from your old apartment building when I went past this man in a sweater with the hood pulled up so that it was covering his face. I didn't think anything of him at the moment until he looked up and watched me walk past."

"I recognized him by his eyes and I knew I had to stop and find out what he was doing, snooping around outside your apartment. So I did and he denied everything but I saw right through him. I told him that if I caught him anywhere near you again, I'd kill him. I thought it had worked until today."

"But last night, you saw him outside my apartment. Why didn't you go after him then?"

"You were there," Harry answers. "And it was the first time I saw him since then. I didn't think he was there on purpose."

Harry's head droops and he stares at his shoes, not even looking up when Blaire's feet stop in front of his. She reaches up and cups his face in her hand, slipping her other one into his clean hand.

"But how did you know he was here? I couldn't call you. My phone got knocked out of my hand," Blaire asks.

"I saw him. He was walking towards your apartment while I was driving back to mine after dropping you off," Harry says, lacing and unlacing his fingers through hers.

"I probably drove halfway there before it hit me that he might be heading to your apartment. Seeing him last night didn't concern me as much because you were with me and you weren't going to be back until morning. I thought maybe he would think he had the wrong apartment building."

"He saw me when we were parked at the front. He knew I lived here. He's been stalking me for years, just waiting for a moment to strike," Blaire says, shaking her head. "He was waiting until I was unprotected."

"But you weren't. That's something Jace didn't foresee," Harry points out. "He couldn't see me, couldn't picture you being with someone other than him. He underestimated me and my promise to keep you safe."

Blaire steps forward and places her head on Harry's shoulder. He sighs and places a kiss on the top of her head.

"And I stand by that," he murmurs into her hair. "I'll protect you with my life because even if I die, I'll know I'd died saving you."


	28. Chapter 28 | Love You More

**I liked that he had hair that was growing without a plan. A grin that came out of nowhere and left the same way.**

**-Cath Crowley, _Graffiti Moon_**

 

Blaire is still shaken by Harry's words as the car weaves in and out of traffic on the way back to his apartment. Is he really willing to die for her? Had she underestimated his love for her that much?

She studies him from her seat. His one hand is on the wheel while his blood crusted one lies on his lap. His eyes are focused ahead and his face is expressionless but she knows that his mind is racing. She can't even imagine what it must be like to be the owner of the fists that did the damage when she can't even handle being the spectator.

Harry has beaten up Jace twice, he's saved her twice, but both of those times he's come out of it with injuries that he has received from punching with bare skin. What if next time he ends up getting hit back and starts to lose? Will he back down or will he do as he's promised and continue to fight until it kills him?

What if it does happen again and he doesn't make it out? Blaire's heart panics at the thought. She can't imagine what her life would be like without him in it. Hasn't she already been through that test and proved that she can't do it?

She turns in her seat and stares at him, hoping he'll turn and look at her, even if it's only for a moment. But his gaze remains on the road. His face still a sickly pale color against the afternoon sunlight that occasionally streams from in between buildings. He's even more shaken than she is. This is the second time he's let his brain lose control of his body and nearly killed someone because of it. He is probably thinking what Blaire thought of him when he beat up Parker. He's thinking he's a monster.

Without realising what she's doing, Blaire's hand shoots out and comes to a rest on his knee. His eyes dart down to her hand before he gives her a quick glance and turns back to the road. He isn't a monster and she isn't going to let him convince himself that he is. She's going to look after him.

When they arrive in Harry's apartment, he runs upstairs to change his shirt and Blaire walks towards the kitchen. Her eyes scan over the apartment as she walks, taking in every single detail Harry has put into his home. She pauses to examine the paintings on the wall and the tiny couch with a guitar leaning against it and a brown journal lying on the cushion. She makes her way to the counter and takes a seat on one of the empty stools. She folds her hands on the cold surface and waits for him to return.

A few seconds later, she hears his bare feet slapping against the stairs and she turns to see him walking towards the sink. The top half of his body is completely bare and her eyes fall onto his tense back muscles as he turns on the tap. The sound of running water splashing against the sink is the only sound until Harry finally speaks.

"You know, you never really did tell me exactly what happened between you and Jace," he says, his back still to her as he lets the warm water rush over his sore skin.

Blaire looks up at him with confusion on her face. She has told him before, the day they first met and many times after that, how can he have forgotten?

"It's like a said before, I got pregnant and was worried about mine and the baby's safety so I got a restraining order and left him," she explains, staring down at her intertwined fingers.

"No, I mean, why did you go out with that douche bag in the first place?"

"You know, you weren't that great to me when I met you either," Blaire snaps, unfolding her hands and looking back up at him.

"But I never hit you," he states plainly, still not meeting her eyes.

"Neither did Jace. At least not right away," Blaire says quietly, her eyes falling back down to the countertop.

Harry finally shuts the tap off and turns around, leaning with his back against the counter.

"When did it start?" he asks.

"It was towards the end of summer vacation, right before sophomore year. Jace and I had been dating for about a year and we spent almost all of that summer together, except for the last week when he went away on a vacation to visit his grandparents in Florida. I remember my mom had told me that there was this new family moving into our neighbourhood with a daughter around my age and that I should go and introduce myself. So I went but it turned out that my mom had gotten mixed up because it wasn't a girl my age, it was a boy."

"His name was Ryan and he was going into the senior year. He was really friendly and I decided since Jace was out of town, it would be alright to show him around. Well, he ended up asking me out at the end of that day and I told him I had a boyfriend. Now, normally boys would give up on me after that because they knew Jace and how overprotective he could be, but not Ryan. He apologized and said we could still be friends."

"I didn't see him again until the first day of school when he spotted me standing alone at my locker. Seeing nothing wrong with it, I engaged in a conversation with him. I remember things were fine until Jace showed up. He got angry, of course, and demanded to know who Ryan was before sending him away. Ryan never spoke to me again after that. Jace was still furious when he took me back to his place that night since his parents were away. As soon as he closed the door, he started shouting at me, telling me I was cheating on him and not listening to me shouting back that I didn't."

Blaire shifts uncomfortably on her stool and examines her tightly wrung hands. "That was the first time he hit me. I think it was me that provoked him that time, but I don't know, after that it seemed like he didn't need to have a reason. It was like he became addicted. Like seeing the bruises and cuts he left on my skin would somehow bring him joy in knowing he could overpower me if he wanted to."

"I'm sorry, Blaire," Harry says, his eyes never wavering from her face.

"It's alright," she says quietly, forcing a small smile and then falling into a silence.

Harry waits a few moments before turning around again and picking up a towel. He gently places it down on his hand and rubs it, trying to get the last of the water off of him. He groans and clenches his teeth together, lifting the towel off and examining his fist.

"Let me see," Blaire says, holding her hand out to him.

He walks over to her and leans across the countertop, showing her his sensitive fist. Large bruises are already forming on his knuckles, turning the pale skin purple and black in places. The white scars on his knuckles are still visible on the sore skin, forever damaging his beautiful hands.

Blaire lifts his hand up to her mouth and kisses it delicately before placing it back down. Harry smiles at her and reaches up with his uninjured hand to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"You remind me of her," he whispers.

"Who?" Blaire asks.

"Ali."

Blaire stares at him with her eyebrows raised. She has no idea what to make of that comment. What's he doing comparing her to his deceased ex-fiancé?

"How do I remind you of her?"

"You and Ali are different. I know it sounds cheesy but it's true. All the other girls I've been with have only stayed with me because of the sex and even then it was only until the next morning, then I would never see them again. They never loved me, only the pleasure I could give them," Harry explains, his face becoming somber.

Blaire gives him a sympathetic smile and places her hand on his.

"Do you want to know how I knew you weren't one of those girls?" he asks, his green eyes searching hers.

Blaire nods her head and squeezes his hand.

"Because you stayed," he answers.

A tiny smile creeps onto her lips as her head falls down. She had had no idea how much he was putting on the line the night he'd told her he loved her. The next morning she could have been gone just like all those other girls but Harry is right. She is different. If she had been like those girls, she wouldn't have been so stubborn and tried so hard to push Harry away. She would have jumped at the chance to get into bed with him. But she was careful and wary of everything he did and said, afraid to dive too deep that she couldn't come back up for air. She took him little by little and despite all the fighting and tragedy, she's learned how to love him in way no one has before.

"Come on. I'm taking you to dinner," Harry announces, pulling his hand out of hers and walking over to the stairs.

"Why? We should stay in," Blaire says, getting up and following him to the bottom of the staircase.

He pauses on the second step and turns around. "Can't I treat you?" he asks.

"Yes, but I just think we would have more privacy if we stayed here."

Harry stops in the action of continuing his way up the steps and looks down at her, a smirk taking hold of his face. Without another word, he walks back to her and grabs her hand, leading her to the living room and sitting her down on the couch.

He rushes over to a big, black chest in the corner of the room and opens it, scooping several blankets into his arms. He carries them over to where Blaire is sitting with one arm and throws them onto the floor beside the couch. He goes back and forth a few more times, carrying pillows and blankets until the chest is empty.

When he's finished, he walks over to the other couch and grabs the arm rest with one hand. With little effort, he pulls it over so it's adjacent with the other one and picks up a blanket off the floor.

"Hold the other end," he says to Blaire.

She stands up and walks over to where the blanket lies, picking it up and helping him hang it over the tops of the couches. Together, they continue until they've made a fort from the fish tank all the way to the end of the couches with blankets and pillows strewn haphazardly across the floor inside.

Harry gets down on his hands and knees and crawls beneath the blankets. Blaire follows, squealing when he comes out from the darkness and hooks his arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap. Her head falls back into the crook of his neck and she tilts it up, placing warm kisses along the bottom of his jaw.

"Talk dirty to me, sweetheart," Harry says lowly.

Blaire's kisses stop and she climbs off of his lap. Sitting across from him, she studies him in the darkness.

"I can't. I don't know how," she replies shyly, biting her lip.

"Just tell me what you want to do to me."

A blush spreads on her cheeks as he waits patiently.

"Harry, no. I can't do it. I'm sorry," she splutters, covering her luminescent face in her hands and shaking her head.

After a few seconds of silence, Blaire feels Harry's hand on her arm. "Come here," he whispers.

Blaire uncovers her face and looks up at him. His arms are wide open and he's smiling, which means he's not mad at her for being nervous. Blaire smiles sheepishly and falls into his arms. He grunts and carefully lies down on his back so that Blaire is resting on top of his chest.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"There is one thing I want to do to you."

"And what's that?" Harry asks, his body tensing and a smirk growing on his lips.

"I want to kiss you," she whispers, lifting her head up and examining his face.

Her eyes fall to his lips, perfectly pink and soft, just waiting to touch hers.

"I'm all yours, sweetheart," he says, letting go of her and spreading his arms wide open on the white sheets.

Blaire smiles and leans down, pressing her lips firmly onto his. She can remember the last time she kissed him but it still seems like it's been too long. Their noses brush together as their lips move in sync, hands and bodies tangled together as they scramble to feel each other.

Blaire pulls away from his lips, panting slightly as she looks over her shoulder. "The fish are watching us," she says, gesturing at the tiny creatures darting around behind the glass.

Harry squirms out from beneath her and lifts his arm up, pulling down a blanket from the roof so that it covers the tank. He turns around and winks at Blaire.

"Now we're alone," he whispers, crawling back over to her and placing a hand on the small of her back.

He pulls her back with him as he lies down again, sighing when her body presses against his.

She pushes herself back up and places both legs on either side of his body. Her hands run over the smooth muscle beneath his hot skin, appreciating the way they contract when he shifts so that his hands are on her sides. His fingers slide beneath the hem of her shirt and he yells in pain.

"What's wrong?" Blaire asks, her hands immediately grasping for his.

"I forgot about my hand," he admits, wincing as he looks back up at her.

Blaire laughs as she sits up and helps him by pulling the shirt quickly over her head. Harry's eyes roam slowly over her body, taking in every curve and edge. His lip is sucked in between his teeth as he reaches out to her, his fingers traveling over the soft, pale skin.

She falls back down on him, placing her elbows on either side of his arms as she looks down at his face. He smiles up at her, his dimples prominent in his cheeks as her hair hangs down and tickles his face.

"I love you," he says.

Blaire responds by crashing her lips onto his and shoving her fingers into his hair, massaging his scalp as tiny moans escape from his lips. The noises melt into her mouth, getting lost in the silent sound of flesh meeting flesh. His hand reaches for her face, pushing her hair back and holding her up.

She pulls away from his lips for a moment and whispers, "I love you more."

Harry's lips stretch against hers in a smile and without warning he secures his arm around her waist and flips her over. Her back lands in a pile of soft pillows that sigh beneath her weight and her long, dark hair fans out behind her on the expanse of white.

His hand cups her face as he tilts her head to the side and immediately presses his lips onto her skin, skillfully using his lips and tongue to send chills through her body. Blaire's breathing increases, her short pants filling the air and her back arching her body towards his. She wants to feel him.

Her hands fumble blindly for his belt buckle, as he closes in on the space just below her jaw. An audible moan flies from her lips as her fingers finally grasp onto the latch on his belt, popping the tiny piece of metal out and pulling it through the loops before casting it away.

Harry's mouth leaves her neck and his teeth graze her earlobe, before he takes it into his mouth. The sensation feels strange but the sense of intimacy of it is too strong for her to notice and push him away. Her hands find their way back to the waistband of his jeans and her fingers expertly undo his button and tug the zipper down. She can feel his bulge pressing against her fingers as she shimmies the jeans down over his hips.

He lets her earlobe slip from his mouth and abandons her body, sitting up with his legs straddling her thighs to pull his pants down. He kicks them off and bends back down over Blaire.

Harry begins working on her shorts, unbuttoning and unzipping them quickly before pulling them down her legs and throwing them outside of the fort. Blaire reaches up and wraps her fingers around the base of his neck, pulling him back on top of her. She connects their lips, feeling a burning sensation explode in her stomach as his hand slides down her side and to the spot just below her belly button.

"Please, Harry, please," she begs against his lips, closing her eyes and letting the anticipation take over her.

His fingers trace over the hem of her panties, sending her nerves into a frenzy and a bunch of goose bumps to spring up on her arms. In one swift movement, with his lips still working against hers, he slips his long fingers beneath the fabric. He is going to take her there.


	29. Chapter 29 | Mine & Yours

**Sometimes out light goes out but is blown into flame by another human being. Each of us owes deepest thanks to those who have rekindled this light.**

**-Albert Schweitzer**

 

_"Mommy! Mommy!" the voice yells as clear as if she is right beside her._

_In fact, she is right beside her, jumping up and down on the mattress with Blaire's blanket clutched in her tiny hands._

_"It's my birthday!"_

_Blaire rolls over and squints at the alarm clock before laying her arm on her forehead and sighing. "Tatum, it's only seven, go back to bed."_

_"But I was born at six o'clock so it's my birthday! Come on, wake up!" she shouts, continuing to bounce around her mother._

_Blaire groans and uncovers her face. Tatum has stopped jumping and is standing next to Blaire, peering over her face. Her big brown eyes are wide awake and her mouth is stretched into a huge smile, displaying all her missing teeth._

_"So, do I look any older?" she asks, making Blaire burst out laughing._

_She reaches out her arms and picks Tatum up, lowering her down onto the bed next to her. Blaire wraps her arms around Tatum's body, snuggling her closely and smiling. What would she do if she didn't have Tatum to wake her up every morning?_

Blaire's eyes snap open. The dream was a dream but it was real. She's been there, held Tatum in her arms before they went out for a day at the zoo to celebrate her sixth birthday. Today is Tatum's eleventh birthday and Blaire's heart yearns to hear her voice yelling at her to get out of bed, even though she knows it's not coming.

Her throat constricts and she feels her eyes becoming wet. Before she knows it, tears are streaming down her cheeks as she sobs silently, burying her face into her pillow and trying desperately to not wake Harry who's sleeping next to her.

She can feel his arm around her waist and it seems to get heavier with every second that she wants to get up and run away. But she knows that he will put up a fight if she tries to escape now. He will want to her to talk about it.

Blaire squeezes her eyes shut, forcing more tears to glide down her red cheeks. For an instant, she can glimpse Tatum's smiling, half-toothless grin and a loud sob slips from her mouth. Harry shuffles beside her as she holds completely still, hoping he will fall back asleep. He moans, removing his arm from her side and stretching. His eyes peek open and he slowly props himself up on one arm.

Blaire reaches her hand up in an attempt to dry her cheeks and she sniffles accidentally. Harry slings his arm back over her and cuddles against her. She knows that he's caught her. She gives up her attempt to hide it and rolls over, burying her face into his chest.

The crying has stopped but she can't get rid of the feeling of despair sinking over her. Tatum is gone, she's been gone for a long time and she will never stop being gone. Blaire will never hold her in her arms again and the thought still hurts even after all this time.

Harry's necklace slides along the top of her head as he sits up a little bit and strokes her messy hair out of her face.

"It never really gets easier, huh?" he says, watching another glistening tear run off the tip of her nose.

"No, it's just today. I feel like I should be happy but how can I be when she's not here?" Blaire replies, her voice thick and drowsy.

"I wish I had answers for you, Blaire, but I'm still trying to figure them out for myself."

"How do you do it?" she asks, rolling onto her back so she can look up at him.

"What?"

"Act like Ali never even existed," Blaire finishes, fiddling with a loose thread on the sheets.

"I don't try to. I don't want to forget her, but sometimes it seems like she's fading away and it feels like I'm losing her. That's the worst part of it, feeling like you're losing the person a second time," Harry answers, his eyes falling down to Blaire.

"And you forget. You forget what their hands feel like and what their voice sounds like. The secrets they told you in the dark when you were wrapped up beneath the sheets become meaningless. It all becomes meaningless."

"And you'll remember thinking, this girl is amazing and I'm going to marry her. Every person I've been with before is irrelevant because she is radiant and she is the one person I'm meant to be with."

"Well, the truth is we're not meant to be with anybody. We spend our whole lives searching for this one person that's supposed to make everything better but in reality that person doesn't exist. I spent four years of my life thinking that Ali was everything I was looking for and that was it. I was going to spend my life with this girl because every mistake I'd made and everything I'd suffered through was for her. She was my reward," he continues, his lips curling up on one side into a defeated smile.

"But all those thoughts, they were meaningless. That's the problem. We put so much trust into our own fantasies. We dream too big sometimes and that's when reality sends us crashing back down to earth. And sometimes it takes the people we love with it," he finishes without even a hint of a tear in his eyes.

Yet, Blaire knows that he's suffering. She of all people has spent years pushing her emotions to the back of her mind and hiding from people. He is just as broken as she is.

"I know I said it before, but I really am sorry about what happened to Ali," she whispers, lifting her hand to tilt his head up so he will be forced to look her in the eyes.

"Me too," he sighs.

"Do you think you'll ever forget about her?"

"There's another problem. We never truly forget."

Once Blaire is finished showering, she walks down the hallway, noticing how Harry has already opened all the curtains in the living room and how the light is pouring in and warming the room. She hears rattling coming from the kitchen and follows the noise, finding Harry standing at the counter with several mixing bowls and ingredients lying on the surface.

He picks up an egg and cracks it on the edge of the bowl before picking up a spoon and stirring it into the mixture. The radio on top of the refrigerator is switched on and a male is singing out to a popular ballad. Blaire can just hear Harry mumbling along to the words and she smiles, sliding herself onto one of the nearby chairs.

She places her head in her hands and watches him carefully pour some milk into a measuring cup, still oblivious to her presence. He dumps it into the bowl and turns around, freezing when he spots Blaire sitting there and watching him.

"What are you making?" she asks him, gesturing to the mess on the counter.

"Uh, well, I thought since its Tatum's birthday it would be necessary to have a cake," he explains just as the oven timer beeps.

He turns around and after giving the batter one last stir, he pours it into the baking pan and sets it inside the oven.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Blaire answers, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl in front of her and peeling it.

She pops the tip into her mouth and takes a bite, chewing thoughtfully as a horrible thought crosses her mind. She's about to ask Harry about it when the front door squeaks open and Kennedy comes walking through followed by Flynn.

Blaire places her banana on the countertop and stands up just in time to be pulled into her sister's arms. They hug for a long time, exchanging silent words and giving each other comforting squeezes.

Kennedy pulls away first, placing a hand on Blaire's arm and smiling sympathetically at her, small tears gathering in her eyes.

"I remember the day she was born," she says, giving her sister's arm a tight squeeze as a tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. "I'm so sorry, Blaire."

Blaire nods, struggling to hold back her own tears as Kennedy steps away and Flynn takes her place. Blaire relaxes into his body, the way he rubs her back and tucks his head into the crook of her neck is in a form of hug only a best friend can provide.

"It's pretty weird not having that little monkey around anymore but at the same time it's like she's still here," Flynn says and Blaire's lip quivers as she clutches onto him before pulling away.

Blaire gives him a shaky nod, biting down on her lip as she takes a couple more steps back. When she runs into the counter, she stops and places her hands on the cool surface behind her. Harry steps forward and places his hand on top of hers. She turns and gives him a grateful smile which he returns.

"Blaire, I'm so sorry. I wish we could stay longer but I have a photo shoot this afternoon and my manager will kill me if I'm late again," Kennedy says, bending down and picking up the purse that she had discarded on her way in.

She backs up a couple steps and bumps into Flynn. Blaire watches as he bends down and whispers, "Are you going to tell them?"

Blaire looks from Flynn to Kennedy and back again.

"Tell us what?" she asks suspiciously.

Her eyes fall on her sister who is wringing her hands together and biting back an awfully big smile. These are obvious signs that Kennedy is hiding something, probably something Blaire will be angry about.

"Kennedy, what's going on?" Blaire demands, pulling her hand away from Harry and stepping towards her sister.

Kennedy ignores Blaire's angry approach and smiles up at Flynn who returns it before she exclaims, "We're getting married!"

Blaire stops in her tracks and her mouth falls open. Married? Is her sister crazy? She hasn't even dated Flynn and she's already jumping into huge decisions. And what is Flynn doing? Shouldn't he have more common sense then to make a mistake like this?

"What?" Blaire splutters when she finally finds her voice again.

"Flynn and I. We were trying to keep it a secret because I knew you wouldn't want me dating your best friend and it stayed a secret, for months actually. He just popped the question last night and I realized the first person I wanted to tell was you. I'm just so happy, Blaire," Kennedy rambles as Flynn nods his head, a huge grin on his face.

The words seem to finally register in Blaire's brain and she stumbles forward, pulling her sister into a tight embrace.

"Oh my gosh, Kennedy. I'm so happy for you," Blaire squeals, smiling into her shoulder. "You finally found a man that will treat you the way you've always deserved."

"And one I'm not afraid to put in his place if he stops," she murmurs as she steps out of the hug and they both giggle.

Kennedy backs up into Flynn and he snakes his arm around her waist. "It was really nice seeing you guys. I love you both and Blaire we have to get together tomorrow to start planning for this wedding," she says as they walk towards the door.

Blaire rolls her eyes and laughs, returning to her seat at the counter where her discarded banana lies as they disappear through the door. Blaire picks up the banana and twirls it around in her hand, a huge smile still written on her face.

Harry walks over to her and leans down, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek before whispering, "Maybe that will be us someday."

~

The sky is blank. There's isn't a star in sight as the night presses down upon the two figures walking down the sidewalk. They are walking hand in hand, talking silently as they pass other people walking down the street.

Normally, the girl, Blaire would have felt anxious walking the streets of Manhattan at this time of night but tonight she couldn't feel safer. Harry is with her, providing a large protection from all the dangers they might encounter.

They walk past a large, brick building with flashing neon lights on the sign and music blaring out into the street. Several men and women are leaning against the wall smoking. Harry and Blaire continue walking, not looking to spend time in a club tonight.

The humidity of the summer night settles down around them, making their intended destination seem more and more appealing. Harry steps off the sidewalk and gives Blaire's hand a tug.

"This way," he says.

She follows him along the dimly lit alleyway with ladders climbing up the walls every few meters. He comes to a stop in front of the fire escape in the middle and places his finger to his lips, signalling for her to be quiet.

Without a word, he begins climbing the steps, being careful not to make so much noise that the people inside the hotel will hear him. Blaire peeks over the edge of the railing as they walk, noticing how the ground seems to spin below her and pulling her head back. Despite all the time spent on top of skyscrapers, she still hasn't become accustomed to heights.

She tightens her grip on Harry's hand and continues to climb the rest of the way up to the roof. When she reaches the top, she places both hands on the rungs and steps over the edge of the building.

The hotel is one of the last of all the hotels in New York to still have an outdoor, rooftop pool. It is placed directly in the middle of the roof. The clear, chlorinated water is shimmering in the moonlight and the lights surrounding the pool. There are a few chairs lining the side closest to the doors with large umbrellas perched on top. A high railing is closing in the roof to prevent anyone from falling off, with the fire escape being the only way out besides the door leading into the hotel. Even that is secured with a gate.

Harry reaches over the top of the gate and pulls the latch open. When he pushes the gate open, it squeaks in protest but opens all the way, allowing them access to the entire roof. He walks onto the pavement, throwing his rucksack down and kicking his shoes off. Blaire does the same, tossing her shoes next to the gate and peeling her socks off.

Harry strolls over to the edge of the water and examines it. Blaire walks over beside him and stares into the calm water. She can just make out their reflections rippling on the surface.

"Are you ready?" Harry asks, his eyes dancing with excitement.

Blaire looks at him uncertainly. This isn't the first time he's led her into doing something illegal and she's almost positive it isn't going to be the last, but she's still afraid of what might happen if they get caught. If this had been a year ago, she would have said no but Harry has changed something in her. She has become reckless for him, when before she wouldn't come out of her comfort zone for anyone, not even Kennedy.

She glances down at the pool again before looking back up at Harry. "I'm ready," she answers.

Harry chuckles and takes a few steps towards her. He reaches out his hand and brushes the hair off her neck, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss beneath her jaw.

"You're so reckless, Blaire. What happened to the innocent, rule abiding girl I once knew?" he whispers.

"I know! Look what you've done to me!"

Harry chuckles again and moves away from her.

"Now get in the water," he orders, gesturing towards the pool with his eyebrows raised.

"No way," she says, shaking her head and crossing her arms.

"Still stubborn, I see. Too bad that didn't change, too," Harry comments, rolling his eyes.

Blaire stares at him in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me right now? I have the right to be stubborn but you- you don't have the right to be a jerk!" she snaps, stamping her bare feet on the pavement as she storms towards him, pointing her finger against his chest.

He smirks down at her, his dimple popping out briefly in his cheek. "Some girls would disagree with you. I've been told that being a jerk turns girls on."

"Well, I'm not one of those girls! I hate it when you act like this!" she shouts, pushing her hands against his chest.

"Whoa, Blaire. Take it easy. I was only kidding," he says, grabbing her by the arms and making her look directly in his eyes.

"It's funny that when you're kidding, you sound the same as when you're being serious," she says flatly, glaring at him.

"I was kidding," he assures her, bending forward and kissing her forehead. "I'll go first."

Blaire watches him as he steps away from her and backs up until he's a few meters away. She remains standing in her position next to the pool and waits for him to jump in. He runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his arms, preparing for the short sprint he will have to make. He places one foot behind him and one in front and takes a deep breath. He sends a wink Blaire's way before he takes off into a run towards the water.

Without warning, he changes his course and begins running towards Blaire. Before she can react, he places two hands on her and gives her a shove. Her feet leave the pavement and she flies into the water, hitting the cool surface and falling into the depths of the pool. She emerges spluttering water from her mouth, to receive another wave of water from Harry cannonballing into the pool next to her. He resurfaces and immediately starts laughing.

Blaire splashes him and mutters, "You're an asshole."

He ignores her comment and swims towards her. She doesn't try to swim away or push him off as he places his hand on her shoulder. His hair is sticking in long strands to his face and his soaked t-shirt is floating loosely around him beneath the surface.

They tread water, their legs occasionally brushing and their faces only inches apart. Blaire can just see the green illuminating his eyes in the moonlight and the same thought she was thinking earlier comes back to her.

"I'm afraid, Harry," she whispers, her hand reaching up to grasp onto his shoulder.

"Of what?" he asks.

"Of what you said this morning. What if this is all meaningless?"

"Then it is. There's nothing we can do about it," he admits and Blaire's heart seems to stop in her chest.

"But I will love you until that time comes, if it ever does. Even if we aren't going to be together forever, I don't want you to forget that as long as I'm alive, you'll always be mine, alright? Just remember that you're mine, no matter what. You're mine. And I'm yours."

Blaire smiles, her heart fluttering back to life at his gentle promises. She watches his smile flicker in the dim light and smiles even bigger. How did this happen again? She struggles to remember in the moment just how she had ended up falling for him.

"Hey! What are you two doing? Get out of that pool!" a man's voice yells.

Both Harry's and Blaire's heads turn to see a security guard with a flashlight clutched in his hand emerging from the hotel door.

"Oh shit," Blaire curses, her eyes wide as she looks back at Harry.

"Come on, Blaire," he says, grabbing onto her arm.

They swim as fast as they can to the edge of the pool as the security guard comes running around the other side. Harry places his arms on the pavement and swiftly pulls himself up. Once he's on his feet, he bends back down and pulls Blaire out of the water.

As soon as her feet hit the pavement they are running. The shouts from the security guard are in the backs of their minds as they grab their belongings and dart through the open gate. Their feet move quickly down the steps and Blaire doesn't dare look over the edge this time, afraid that she might throw up.

When they reach the last set of stairs, Harry looks over his shoulder. A look of pure excitement is on his face as he smiles at Blaire. He's enjoying this. The feeling of being chased and knowing that they are going to escape.

Blaire turns around for a moment and can barely spot the security guard leaning over the railing of the fire escape and peering for them in the darkness. When their feet hit the ground, Harry grabs Blaire's hand and together they sprint down the alley and around the corner. The people outside the club don't seem to care at all as the rush past them.

Without warning, Harry makes a sudden turn and Blaire nearly loses her balance before he catches her and pushes her against the wall of the alley. Their breathing is heavy as they stare at each other in the darkness. Blaire reaches up and wipes the strands of wet hair from Harry's face. He lifts his scarred hand and places it on hers, stopping her from fixing him further and holding her hand against his warm cheek. She can feel his pulse thumping through his hand and her eyes fall to his lips once more.

Blaire suddenly recalls her father once telling her that it's easy to be happy and harder to be sad. She had been confused at the time thinking, if it's hard to be sad then why is she sad all the time? She had never quite understood the deeper meaning behind sadness until now.

Being sad is connected with loving someone or something. Without the ability to love, a person could never be touched by the sadness of losing that someone or something. After all, if they never put their heart on the line, how would they ever experience a broken heart?

Love is all about taking risks. Even if it's something as simple as opening your mind. Or maybe something as scary as jumping off a 30 foot high cliff. And it's good to take some risks and explore your boundaries because after all, without sadness there is no happiness and without happiness there is no love.

Before Blaire even has the chance to catch her breath, Harry slams his lips against hers. With his spare hand, he shoves her further into the wall, pressing his wet body into hers. Butterflies erupt in her stomach and she knows that no matter how many times he kisses her, she'll never get used to the feeling of electricity surging through her veins.

She doesn't care that they almost just got caught and probably escaped an arrest by a few seconds. The adrenaline is probably contributing to the passion being shared between them right now, anyways. She doesn't care that Harry is a jerk and makes her a lot angrier than she would be without him. She's happy and even though everything is far from perfect, it's fine because it's good enough for her.

Blaire feels herself slipping away and for a moment she can picture Tatum's face in her mind. She's sitting on a hospital bed across from Blaire, her eyes curious and bright.

"Do you love him?" she asks.

Blaire feels herself smiling against Harry's lips. She does.


End file.
